THE TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF MONSIEUR VIOLET

7iii:

TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES

OK

MONSIEUR VIOLET,

/ « >Nr T H L

\Al\i: IXDUXS A\0 WILD TRIBES OF THE GREAT
WESTERN PRAIRIES.

WKll ri-V HY

CATTAIN MARRYATT, C.B.

L0»ND(5N:

SIMMS AND'MINT YRE,

RA'J’EENOSTEE ROW, AND DONBOALL ST»j?JBTt BEI»FA»T.^

1849:

PREFACE.

It is uiiuecessary to inlbrm the reader in what manner I became
acquainted with the party from whose notes and memoi’anda T
have compiled these volumes. Of the authenticity and correctness
of whal h(‘ a'sserts L have m.yself no doubt, as he has been ^^'ith me
during the whole time which it has taken me to write the w'ork,
and I lKi\e had full opportunity for explanation S,nd correction.

AVe have had many works relative to the Indian tribes of North
America, with tlieir pa^l liistory and present condition; but the
tribes of AVestorn America are still but iraiierfectly known. Of
these, consisting principally of the Pawmees, Black-feet, Crow.s,
Comanches, A])aclies, Arrapahoc‘s, Wakoes, and Shoshones, only
the three first may be said to have been examined. The Comanchc'S
have been visited bv Mr. Catlin, but little has been known of their
customs or liistory. The Apaches and Arrapahoes have only been
met with, and not described; the Wakoes are wholly unknown;
and as for the Shoshones, the}’’ have been merely mentioned by
Ross Cox and Mr. Catlin, as a powerful tribe, hut have never been
seen by either.

TJie Pavvne^es, Black-feet, and Crows, are of the Algonquin race,
whereas the other tribes, whicli may well be called tlie Bedouins
ol' the great AVestern Deserts, are all, as it will appear in this
narrative, originally descended from the Shoshones, or, as they are
usually called, the Snake Indians.

This w'ork will, therefore, be found to contain much valuable
information, not only as to the tribes of Indians, but also os to the
countries of California and AVestem Texas, and the desert prairies
in Central America, of all w hich territory we have been in as much
ignorance as we have of those who inliahit it.

4*RtiFAri:.

If the reader disco\ors an air of romance in this narrdti\o, it
muat not he laid on my shoulders. 1 hdv(*, as far |ks possible*
serened down the tone of it; but romantic it certainly is, and may

bo, from its \ery nature.

Some of the descriptions in the natural history of these countries,
inaj sjirprise—^but in uuknonn countiu s, imknown < reatnres must
be expected to be met with I can only say, that the accounts of
them have been submitted to the seserest investigation, and that T
ftilly believe that they are correct, not onlj on that account, but
from the respectability of the p irt^ who has fui iiished me with the

details.

The opinions and occadonil lemarks nhicli may he met with
are not mine; I ha\ e morelj itteii th ‘ w oik, and T ha\ e thought
it yight to inakoithis short preface, that the roadi r may bi satisfa d
iMTijr far I am, or am not, responsible for its conlents

V. isr.

NARRATIVE

TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES, &fl.

CHAPTER I.

The Revolution of 1830, which deprived Charles the Tenth of tlw
throne of France, hhe all other great and sudden changes, proved
the ruin of many individuals, more espocially of many ancient
iamilies who were attached to the Court, and who would not deaert
the exiled monarch in his adversity. Among the few who "fBp©
permitted to share his fortunes was my father, a nohld gentinUmn
of Burgundy, who, at a former period and during a former exile,
had proved bis unchangeable faith and attachment to the legitimol>0
owners of the crown of France.

The ancient royal residence of Holyrood having been offered
a retreat to his unliappy master, my father bade an eternal adien
to his -country, and with me, his only son, then but nine joars of
age, followed in the suite of the monarch, and estaldi^ed himself
m Edinburgh.

r Our residence in Scotland was not long. Charles the Tenth
decided upon taking up his abode at Prague. My fkther went
before him to make tho necessary arrangements; and as 80<m US
his master was established there, he sought by travel to forget hhf
griefs. Young as I was, I was his companion. Italy, Sicily, Gretuso,
Turkey, Egypt, and the Holy Band, were all visit^ in the ooufSe
of three years, after which time we returned to Italy; and being
then twelve years old, I was placed for my education in the Propa*
ganda at Romet

For an exile who is ardently attached to his countt/ thm'e is no
repose. Forbidden to return to his beloved France, &ere Was ms
retreat which eould make my fykHm forget his grle&, and he
tinned as restless and as unhappy as ever.

Shortly after that I had been placed in the Propaganda, my
fell in with an old firiend, a fri^d of his yonth, whom bi had t|i(^
met with for years, once as gay and as happy as he had bami,
equally suRbring and equally restless. This fHend w$^i the ttltlwd

at THAVEL8 AND ADVENTUHES OF

Prince Seravalle, who also had drank deep of the cup of bitterness.
In his youth, feeling deeply the decadence, both moral and physical,
of his couni ry, he had attemx>ted to strike a blow to restore it to
its former splendour; he headed a consiiiracy, expended a largo
portion of his wealth in pursuit of his object, was betrayed by liis
associates, and for many years was imprisoned by the authorities
in the Castle of San Angelo.

How long his confinement lasted I know not, hut it must have
been a long while, for in after-times, when ho would occasionally
revert to his former life, all the iniadents he related were for years
“ when he was in his dungeon, or in the court-yard of the prison
of the Capitol;” where many of his ancestors had dictated laws to
nations.

At last the Prince was restored to fr(‘edom, hut captivity had
made no alteration in his feelings or sentiments. Ilis love for his
country and his desire for its regeneration were as strong as ever,
and he very soon placed himself at the head of the Carbonari, a
sect which, years afterwards, Avas rendered illustrious by the con¬
stancy and sufferings of a Maroncelli, a Silvio Pellico, and many
others.

^he Prince was again detected and arre.sted, hul, he Avas not
thrown into prison. The government had bei'n much weakened,
and the well-known opinions and liberality of the Prince had
rendered him so popular with the Trasteverini, or northern inha¬
bitants of tho Tiber, that policy forbade either his captivity or
destruction. He was sentenced *^0 be banished for (I think) ten
years.

During liis long banishment, the Prince Seravalle wandered over
various portions of the globe ; and at last found himself in Mexic:o.
After a residence at Vera Cruz, he travelled into the interior, to
examine the remains of tlie ancient cities of the Western World;
and impelled by his thirst for knowledge and love of adventure, he
at last arrived on the western Coast of America, and passing through
California, full in with the Shoshones, or Snake Indians, occupying
a large territory extending from the Pacific nearly to the foot of the
Rocky Mountains. Pleased with tho manners and customs, and native
nobility of this tribe of Indians, tho Prince remained with them for
a considerable time, and eventually decided that he would return
oncemore tohis countiy, uowthat his term of banishment had expired;
not to resettle in an ungrateful land, hut to collect his property and
return to the Shoshones, to employ it for their benefit and advance¬
ment.

Tliero was, perhaps, another feeling, even more powerful, which
induced the Prince Seravalle to return to the Indians Avith whom
he had lived so long. I refer to the charms and attraction which
a wild life offers to the man of civilization, more particularly when

MoMHlEtrit VlOLSiT.

lie has discovered how hollow and heartless we become under re-
linement.

Not one Indian who has been brought up at school, and among
tlie pleasures and luvuries of a groat city, has over wished to make
his dwelling among the pale faces; while, on the contrary, many
thousands of white men, from the highest to the lowest stations in
civilization, ha^e embraced the life of the savage, remaining with
and dying among them, although they might have accumulated
wealth, and returned to their own country.

This apiiears strange, hut it is nevertheless true. Any intelligent
traveller, who has remained a few weeks in the wigwams of well-dis¬
posed Indians, will acknowledge that the feeling w'as strong upon
him <‘ven during so short a residence. What must it then be on
those who ha\e resided with the Indians for years?

It was shortly alter the Prince’s return to Italy to fulfil his bene-
\oleiit intentions, that my father renewed his old triendslnp—a
friendship of early years, so strong that their adverse polities could
)i(>t w eakt>n it. The Prince Avas then at L''ghoni; he had purchased
a vessel, loaded it with implements of agriculture and various
branches of the domestic arts; he had procured some old pieces of
artillery, a large quantity of carabines from Liege, gunpowder, &c.;
materiiils lor building a good house, and a lew articles of ornament
and luxuiy. IIis large estates were all sold to meet these extraor¬
dinary expenses. He had also engaged masons, smiths, and car¬
penters, and lie wa-, to be oecompanied by some of his former ten¬
ants, w'ho Avoll understood the culti\ation of the olive-tree* and vine.

It was in the autumn of 183.'J when ho was nearly ready to start,
that he foil in with my father, told him his adventures and his
future plans, and asked him to accompany him." My father, who
was tired and disgust(‘d Asith everything, blase au foud, met the
Prince more than half-way.

Our jiroperty in Franco had all been disposed of at a great sacri¬
fice at the time of the lievolution. All my lather possessed was in
money and jew^els. lie resolv od to risk all, and to settle with the
Prince iii this far distant land. Several additions AA^ere conse¬
quently made to the cargo and to the members composing the ex¬
pedition. •

Two priests had already engaged to act as missionaries. Anxious
for my education, my father provided an extensive library and paid
a large sum to the Prior of a Dominican convent to permit the de¬
parture with us of another aa orthy man who was well able to super¬
intend my education. Two of the three religious men, who thus
formed our expedition, had been great travellers, and had already
carried the standard of the cross east of the Ganges in the Thi-
betian and Burman Empires.

In order to avoid any difficulties from the gOA’emment, the Prjnee

XaAVHTjS ANt) AOVENXUnES Ol'

LSeravalle had taken the precaution to clear the vessel out for Gua¬
temala, and the people at Leghorn fully believed that such was his
object. But Guatemala and Acapulco were left a long way south
of us before we arrived at our destination.

At last everything was prepared. I was sent for from the Pro¬
paganda —the stock of wines, &c., were the last articles wliich were
shipped, and the Esmeralda started on her tedious, and hy no
means certain voyage.

CHAPTER II.

I WAS very young then—not thirtom years old; but if I was young,
I had travelled much, and had gainfed that knowledge which is to
be obtained by tlie twe—perhaps the best education W'e can have in
our earlier years, t sliall pass over the monotony ol‘ the voyage of
eternal sky jmd water. I liave no recollection that we avctc in
any imminent danger at any time, and the voyage might have been
styled a prosperous one.

After five months, wo arrived olf the coast, and ndth some tliflS-
Ottlty we gained the enir.ance of a river falling into Trinity Bay, in
lat. 41® north, and long. 324° 28' west.

We anchoreil about four miles above the entrance, whitih vv^as on
the coast abreast of the Shoshones’ territory, and resorted to by
them on their annual fishing excursions. In memory of tlie event,
the river was named by the Indians—“ Nu eleje sha wako;*’ or,
the Guido of the Strangers.

For many weeks it was a strange and busy scene. The Prince
Seravalle had, during bis foi mer residence with the Shoshont^s, been
admitte<l into th(-ir tribe as a warrior and a chief, and now the
Indians flocked from the interior to welcome their pale-faced chief,
who had not forgotten his red cliildren. They helped our party to
imload the vessel, provided us with game of all kinds, and, under
the directions of tlio carpenter, they soon built a large warehouse
to protect our goods and implements from the elfects of the
weather.

As soon as our cargo was housed, the Prince and my father,
accompanied by the chiefs and elders of the tribe, set off on an
exploring part}', fo select a spot fit for the settlement. During
their absence, I was intrusted to the care of one of the chef’s
scj^uaws, and had three beautiful children for my playmates.* In
three weeks the party returned; they had selected a spot upon the
western banks of the Buoua Ventura River, at the foot of a high
eirmlar mountain, where rocks covered with indurated lava and
caloinad sulphur proved the existence of former volcanic eruptions.
The. river was lined witii lofty timber; immense quarries of lime-

MONSTEDU V'tiOliBT. 11

stone wore close at hand, and the minor streams gave us clay*
which jiroduced bricks of an excellent quality.

The Spaniards had before visited this spot, and had given the
mountiaiu the name of St. Salvador; but our settlement took the ,
Indian appellation of the Prince, which was—“Nanawa ashta
ju(‘ri,” or the Dwelling of the Great Warrior. As the place of
our landing was a groat resort of the Indians during the fishing
season, it was also resolved that a sqniare fort and store, with a
l)f)at-honse, should be erected there; ilid for sLc or seven months
all \vas hustle and activity, when an accident occniTed W'hich threw
a damp ui)on our exertions.

Although the whole country abounds in cattle, and some other
tribes, of whom 1 shall herofifter make mention, possess them in
largo li(*rds, the Slioshones did not po'^sess any. Indeed, .so abun¬
dant Avas the game in tliis extensive territory, that they could well
dispense with them; but as the Priiicj^’s ambition was*to introduce
agriculture and more domestic habits among the tribe, ho consi¬
der,'d it right that they siiould bo introduced. He therefore
despat(;lie<l the Esmt'ralda to obtain them either at Monterey or
Santa Jlar’oara. But the vessel Avas never more heard of: tlie
iVlexicans stat('d that they had pcircedvod the wreck of a vessel off
()a,po Mcinloeino, and it Avas hut natural to suppose tliat these were
tlio remains of our unfortunate brig.

All hands on board perished, ami the loss w^as very heavy to ns.
Tiio croAv consisted of the captain, his son, and twelve men; and
there Avero also on bo.ard five of our honsehold, who had been
despatched upon various coiumi.ssu)iis—Giuseppe Polidori, the
youngest of our missionaries, one of our gunsmiths, one of our
masons, and two Italian farmers. Melancholy as was this loss, it
di»l not abate the (‘xertions of those Avho were left. Fields wore
immt'diately cleared—gardens prepared; and by degrees the
memory of tins sad beginning .hided away before the prospect of
future happiness and comfort.

As soon as we were completely established, my education com¬
menced. It was novel, yet still had rau*ch affinity to the plan
pui’sued W'ith the students of the Military Colleges in France,
inasmuch as all ray play hours were employed in the hardier
exercises. To the two excellent missionaries I owe much, and with
them I passt'd many happy hours.

We had brought a very extensive and very well-selected library
with us, and under their care I soon became acquainted with the
arts and sciences of civilization: I studied history generally, and
they also taught me Latin and Greek, and I was soon master of
many of the modern languages. And as my studie.s were particu¬
larly devoted to the history of the ancient people of Asia, to enable
me to understand their theories and follow up their favourite

12 TflAVELS ANTV ADVl-NTtrRLa OF

i*esearehes upon the origin of the. great ruins in Western uml
Central America, the slight knowledge which 1 had gained at the
Ihropaganda of Arabic and Sanscrit was now daily increased.

Such were my studies with the good fathers: the other portion
of my education was wholly Indian. I was put undci- the charg(*
of a celebrated old warrior of the tribe, and from him 1 learmnl the
use of the bow, the tomahawk, and the rifle; to throw the lasso, to
manage the wildest horse, to break in the untamed colt; and
occasionally I was permittlJll to accompany them in their hunting
and fishing excursions.

Thus for more than three years did I continue to acquire knoAv-
Icdge of various kinds, wliUe tlic colony gradually extended its
fields, and there appeared to be every cliance i)f gradually re¬
claiming the wild Shoshones to a more civilized state of existt^nce.

But “rAomme propose et Dieu dispose.^' Another heavy blow
fell upon the Prince, which eventually provcid tlie ruin of all his
hopes. After the loss of the vessel, w'c had but eight AAliite men in
the colony, besides the missionaries and oursehos; and tlie Prince,
retaining only my father’s old servant, determined upon sending
the remainder to purchase the cattle whicli we had been so anxious
to obtain.

They departed on this mission, but never rt'iunied. In all pro¬
bability they were murdered by the Apaehes Indians; althougli it
is not impossible that, tired of our simple and monotonous life,
they deserted us to establish themselves in the distant cities of
Mexico.

This second catastrophe Aveighed lieavy iipon the mind of the
good old Prince. All his hopes were daslu'd to the grountl—the
illusions of the latter part ot his life were destroyed for ever, Ilis
proudest expectations had bcjen to redeem his ,saA age friends Irom
their Avild life, and this (.‘ould only be effected by commerce and
agriculture.

The farms round the settlement had for noAV nearly four years
been tilled by the squaw.s and young Indians, under the direction
of the white men; and although the occupation was by no means
congenial to their nature, the Prince had every anticipation that,
with time and example, the Shoshones would perceive the advan¬
tages, and be induced to till the land for themselves.

Before our arrival, the winter was alAA^ays a season of great
privation to that portion of tlie IndiaiLs who could not repair to
the hunting grounds; while now, Indian corn, i>otatoes, and other
vegetables were in plenty, at least for those who dwelt near to the
settlement. But now that we had lost all our white cultivators and
mechanics, we soon found that the Indians avoided the labour.

All our endeavours proved useless: the advantages had not yet
been suffieienUy manifest; the transition attempted had been too

31(>N8ihlIH VIOIjB'C.

la

sliort; and tht! good, although proud and la//)', Shoshones aban¬
doned the tillage, and relapsed into their former apathy and
indifference.

Mortified at this change, the Prince and my father resolved to
make an appeal to tlie whole nation, and try to convince them how
much happier thej' nould be if they would cultivate the ground for
their support. A great feast was givtin, the calumet was .smoked;
a fter Avhieh tlie Prince rose and addressed them after their own
fashion. As T had, a short time pre^ ions, been admitted as a chief
and warrior, 1, of (M)ursc, was present at (he meeting. The Prince
spoke:—

“Do you not want to become the most powerful nation of the
West ? You d«). If then such is the case, you must ask assistance
from the earth, Avhich is your mothei*. True, you have prairies
abounding in game, but th(‘ squaw.s and the children cannot follow
your path when hunting.

“ Are not the C'rows, the TJonnaxes, the Flat Heads, and the
IJmbiquas, starving during the winter? They have no buffaloes in
theij’ land, and but few deer. What have they to eat. A few lean
lior.ses, perchance a bt^ar; and the stinking fle.sh of the otter or
l)eaver they may trap during the season.

“ Would they not be too hsppy to exchange their furs against the
corn, the tobacco, and good dried tish of the Shoshones ? Now they
.soil their furs to the Yankees, but the Yankees bring them no food.
The Flat Heads take the fire-water and the blankets from the
t radc'rs, l)ut tliey do so because they cannot get anything else, and
tiieir packs of furs wcmld spoil if they kept them.

“ Would they not like better to barter them with you, who are
.so near to them, for good food to sustain them and their children
during the winter—to keep alive tlicir squaws {ind their old men
during the long snow and the drc'ary moon.s of darkness and gloom.®

“ Now if the Shoshones had corn and tobacco to give for fui’s,
they would become rich. They would have the best saddles from
IMexico, the bust rifles from the Yankees, the best tomahawks and
blankets from the Canadians. Who then could resist the Shoshones?
When they nvould go hunting, hundreds of the other natives would
cilear for them the forest path, or tear with their hands the grass
out of their track in the prairie. I have spoken."

All the lndian.s acluiowledged that the talk was good and full of
wisdom; but they wore too proud to work. An old chief answered
for the whole tribe.

“Nanawa Ashta is a great chief; ho is a brave! The Manitou
speaks^softly to his ears, and tells him the secret wliich makes the
heart of a warrior big or small; but Nanawa luis a pale face—his
I'lood is a strange blood, although his heart is ever with his red
friends. It is only the white Manitou that speaks to him, and how

14 TIIAV1:.L.S ATSD ADVF.NTl Ui:s t>l'

could tile white IVLauitou know the nature of the Indians? lie has
not made them; he don't call tlicm to him; ho gives tluun nothing;
he leaves thorn poor and wrotcliod; he koe])s all for the pale faces.

“It is right he should do so. The panther will not food th(!
young of the deer, nor will the hawk sit upon tlu‘ eggs of the dove.
It is life, it is order, it is nature. K.ioh has his owji to provide for
and no more. Indian corn is good; tobacco Is good, it gladd('ns tho
heaj*t of the old men when tho)’^ ai’o in sorrow; toba<500 is tho
present of chiefs to chiefs. Tlio calum d speaks of w^ar and death;
it discourses also of peace and friend.ship. Tho 31anitou made th<*
tobacco expressly for man—it is good.

“ But corn and tobacco must bti taken from the earth; they musl
be watched fbr many moons, and nnrs((d like children. Tliis is
work fit only for squaws and slavi's. Shoshones are warriors and
free; if they w'ere to dig in the ground, tludr sight would become
weak, and their enemies would say they were moU^s and badgers.

“ Does the Just Nanaw'a wish the Shoshones to be (h'spised by
tho Crows or the horsemen of the south? No, he had fought for
them beftJro he w^ent to see if the bones of his fatluTs were safe;
ftild since his return, has he not given to them rilles and powder,
and long nets to catch the salmon, and i)lcnty ol‘ iron to render
their arrOw^S feared alike by the buffaloes and the Umbiquas ?

“Nanawa speaks w'cll, for he loves his childn-n; hut tho spirit
that whispers to him Is a pale-face spirit that cannot see under the
skin of a red warrior; it is too tough: nor in his blood; it is too
dark.

“.Yet tobacco is good, and corn too. Tiu' hunters of the Flat
Heads and Pierced Noses would come in winter to bog for it; their
furs would make warm tlie lodges of tho Shoshones. And my
people would become rich and powerful; they would be masters of
all the country, from the salt waters to the big mountains; tho
deer would come and lick their hands, and the wild horses would
graze around their wigwams. 'Tis so thfit the pale faces grow' rich
and strong; they plant corn, tobacco, and sweet nrdons; they have
trees that bear figs and peaches; they feed swine, and goats, and
tame buffaloes. They are a great people.

“ A red-.skin warrior is nothin.g but a warrior; he is strong, hut
he is poor; he is not a woodshunk, nor a badger, nor a prairu' dog;
he cannot dig the ground; he is a warrior, and nothing more. 1
have spoken."

Of course the tenor of this speech w'as too much in harmony with
Indian ideas not to be received with admiration. The old man took
Mis seat, while another rose to speak in his turn.

“The great chief hath spoken; his hair is white like the down
of the sw'an; his winters have been many; he is wise; why should 1
spealc after him; his words w'cre true? The Maiiitou touched mv

MOAdiEUB VIOLET.

15

oars and my eyos when he spoke (ami he spoke like a warrior): I
heard his war-cry. T saw the TJmbiqiias running in the sw^araps,
and crawling like black snakes under the bushes. I spied tldrty
scalps on bis bolt, his leggings and mocassins were sewn with the
hair of the Wallah Wallahs.'* * * §

“ I should not speak; I am young yT‘t and have no wisdom; ray
words are few, I should not speak. But in my vision 1 hoard a
spirit, it came upon the breeze, it entered within me.

“ Nanawa is my father, the fatlier of all, he loves us, we are his
children; he has brought with him a great warrior of the pale faces,
who was a mighty chief in his tribe; he has given us a yoimg chief,
wiio is a great hunter; in a few years he will be a great warrior,
and load our young inten in the war path on the plains of the Wa-
chinangoesjt fbr Owato Wanishat is a Shoshone, though his skin
is paler than the flower of the magnolia.

“JVanawa has also given to us two Makota Konayas,5 to teach
wisdom to our young men; their words ar(‘ sweet, thciy speak to the
hoarl-; they know everything and make men better. Nanawa is a
great chief, very wise; what he says is right, what he wishes must
be done, for be is our fathetr, and he gave us strength to fight our
enemies.

“ He is right, the Shoshones must have them lodges full of corn
anrl tobacco. The Shoshones must ever bo what they are, what
they were, a great nation. But the chief of many winters hath
said it; the hodgti-hogs and the foxes may dig the earth, but the
eyes of the Shoshones are always turned towards their enemies in
the woods, or the buffaloes in the plains.

“ Yet the will of Nanawa must be done, but not by a Shoshone.
"NVe will give him plenty of squaws and dogs; we will bring him
slaves from the Umbiquas, the Cayuses, and the "Wallah Wallah?.
They shall grow the 00111 and tobacco while we hunt; while we go
to fetch more slaves, even in the big mountains, or among the dogs
of the south, the Wachinangoes. I will send the vcrmilionll to my
young warriors, they will paint their faces and follow me on tho
war-path. I have spoken!’*

Thus ended the hope of making agriculturists of the wild people
among wliom we lived; nor did I wonder, such as they were, they
felt hapi)y. What could tliey want besides their neat conical skin

* Indiana living or\ the ColumbLan River. 200 miles above Fort Vancouver,
allied to the Nez Percea, and great supporters of the Americans.

t Name given to the half breeds by the Spaniards, but by Indians compre¬
hending the whole Mexican race.

t The “ Spirit of the Young Beaver;” name given to me when I was mode a
warrior.

§ Two priests, literally two black gowns.

II When a chief wishes to go to war, he sends to his warriors some leav^ o>f
tobacco covegQd with vermilion- It is a sign that they must soon be prepwid.

l(i TKAVJS1.S AKU ADVKNTUttES (>1

lodfjes, thoir (Imsses, which were good, comfortable, atul elegant;
and their women, who were virtuous, faithful, and pretty? Had
they not the unlimited range of the prairies ? Were they not lords
over millions of elks and buffaloes?—they wanted nothing, except
tobacco. And yet it was a pity wo could not succeed in giving
them a tasto for civilization. • They were gentlemen by nature; as,
indeed, almost all the Indians an*, when not given to drinking.
They are extremely w(?ll bred, and stamped with the indubitable
seal of nobility on their brow.

The council was broken up, as both Cliristianity, and his own
peculiar sentiments, would not permit the T’rince Seravalh' to
entertain the thought of extending slavery. He bowed meekly to
the will of Providence, and endeavoured by other means to efl'(*ct
his object of enlightening the minds of this pure and nobh', yet
savage race of men.

CHAPTER III.

This breaking up, for the time, of our agricultural settlement, took
place in the year 1838. Till then, or a few months before, I had
passed my time between my civilized and uncivilized instructors.
Hut although educated, 1 was an Indian, not only in my dress but
in my heart.

I mentioned that in the council called by the Prince I was present,
having been admitted as a chief, being then about seventeen years
old. My admission was procur's! in the following manner; when
we received intelligence of the murder, or disappearance, of our
seven white men, whom the Prince had sent to Monterey to pi’ocuro
cattle, a party was sent out on their track to ascertain what had
really taken place, and at my request the command of that party
was confided to me.

We passed the Buona Ventura, and follow’ed the track of our
white men for upwards of 200 miles, when we not only could tracf'
it no further, but found our small partj’^ of fifteen surrounded by
about eighty of our implacable enemies, the Crows.

By stratagem, we not only broke through them, but succeeded in
surpri^iing seven of their party. My companions w'ould have put
them to death, hut T would not permit it. We secured them on
their own horses, and made all the haste we could, but the Crows
had discovered us and g.ave chase.

It was fifteen days’ travelling to our own country, and we ^vei’c
pursued by an enemy seven or eight times superior to us in numbers.
By various stratagems, which 1 shall not dwell upon, aided by the
good condition of our horses, wt contrived to t>scape them, and to
bring pur prisoners safe into the settlement. Now, although we
hpd no lighting, yet address is considered a great qualification. Cq

UOMSIXiUlt VlOIiE^?.

thy return I was therefore, admitted as a chief, with the tmhlan
name Owato Wanisha, or “ spirit of the beaver," as appropriate to
my cunning and address. To obtain the rank of a warrior chief,
it was absolutely requisite that I had distinguished myself on the
field of battle.

Before I continue niy narration, I must say a little more relative
to the missionaries, who were my instructors. One of them, the
youngest, Polidori, was lost in the Esmeralda, when she sailed from
Monterey to procure cattle. The two others were Padre Marini
and Padre Antonio. They were both highly accomplished and
learned. Their knowledge in Asiatic lore was unbounded, and
it was my delight to follow^ them in their researches and various
theories concerning the early Indian emigration across the waters
of the Pacific.

They were both Italians by birth. They had passed many years
of tlunr lives among the nations west ot the Ganges, and in their
advanced years had returned to sunny Italy, to die near tlie spot
where they had played as little children. But they had met with
Prince Scravallo, and when they had heard flrom him of the wild
tribes with whom he had dw’elt, and who knew not God, they cofi-
sidorod that it was their duty to go and instruct them.

Tims did these sincere men, ohl and broken, wdth one foot resting
on their tombs, again encounter difficulties and danger to propa¬
gate among the Indians that religion of love and mercy, which they
were appointed to make known.

Their efforts, however, to convert the Shoshones were fhiitless.
Tudicin nature would seenl to be a nature apart and distinct. The
aged men, unless in sufferhig or oppression, will not listen to what
they call “the smooth honey words of the pale-faced sages;” and
ven when they do so, they argue upon every dogma and point of
faith, and remain unconvinced. The missionaries, therefore, after
a time, contented themselves with practising deeds of charity, w :th
alleviating their sufferings when able, from their knowledge of me¬
dicine and surgery, and by moral precepts, softening down as much
as they could the fierce and occasionally cruel tempers of this wild
ntutored race.

Among other advantages which the Shoshones derived from our
niasionaries, was the introduction of vaccination. At first it was
received with great distrust, and, indeed, violently opposed, but the
;ood sense of the Indians ultimately prevailed; and I do not believe
hat there is one of the Shoshones born since the settlement was
formed who have not been vaccinated; the process was explained
by the Padres Marini and Polidori to the native medical men, and
i now invariably ]practised by them.

T may as well here finish the histories of'the good missionaries.
jWhen I was sent upon an expedition to Monterey, which I shall

B

IH TBA.VEL3 AND ADVENTUBES Oi'

soon have to detail, Padre Marini accojiapamed mo. Having failed
with the Shoshones, lie considi'red that he might prove useful hy
loeating himself in the Spanish settlements of California. We
parted soon after wo arrived at Monteri'y, and I have never seen
or heard of him since. I sliaH, liowever, have to speak of him
again during our journey and S(*journ at that town.

The other, Padre Antonio, died at the settlement previous to my
journey to Monter(‘y, and the Indians still jireserve his robes,
mifisai, and crucifix, as the relics of a good man. . Poor Padre
Antonio! I would have wished to have known the history of his
former life. A deep melancholy was stamped uj^fm his featurO/S,
ftrom some cause of heart-breaking grid’, which even religion could
but occasionally assuage, but not remove.

After his death, I looked at his missal. Th.i blank pages at the
beginning and the end were filled up with ]iious refiectious, besides
some few w'ords, which spoke volumes as to one periodaif his exist¬
ence. The first words inscribed were; “Julia, obiit a.d. 171)9.
Virgo purissima, Alaris Stella. Ora pro me.” On tlie following
leaf was written; “ Antonio de Campestrina, Couviont. Oominicum.
in Bom^ a.d. 1800.”

Then he had embraced a monastic life upon the. death of one dear
to hina—perhaps his first and only love. Poor man I many a time
havj^ I seen the big burning tears rolling fast do^m his withered
ehex^s." But he is gone, and his sorrows are at rest. On the l:i,st
page of the missal wei-e also two lines, written in a tremulous hand,
probably a short time provi<ris to his death: “I, nunc unima
anceps; sitque tihi Heu's misericors.”

The Prince Seravalle did not, hov^ever, ahandtni his plans;
having failed in persuading the Shosliones, at the suggestion of my
fother, it was resolved that an attempt should be made to i)roeure
a few Mexicans and Canadians lo carry on the agricultural la¬
bours; for I may here as well observe that both the Prince and
my father had long made up their minds to live and die among the
Indians. ^

This expedition was to be nndertaken by me. My trip was to
be a long one. In case I should not succec-d in Monterey in en¬
listing the pajpties required, I was to proceed ori to Santa Pe,
either with a parly of Apache.s Indians, who were always at peace
wit h the Shoshones, or else with one of the Mexican c.aravans.

In Santa,Fe there was also a great number of French and Cana¬
dians, who cam® every year from St. Louis, hired by the Fur Com¬
panies; so tliat we Ijjwl some chance of procuring them. If, liow¬
ever, my endeavours, should prove fruitless, as I should already
have proceeded too far to return alone, I w as to continue on from
Santa Fe with the fur traders, returning to St. Louis, on the Mis-
Siasippi, where I was to di'^poso of some valuable jewels, hire men

to form a strong caravan^ and return to the Settlement by the
Astoria trail.

As ray adventures may bo, said but to commence at my doparturo
upon this commission, I will, beforo I cntc*r upon my narrative,
give the reader some insight into the history and records of the
Shoshones, or Snahe Indians, with whom 1 was domiciled, and
over whom, although so young, I hold authority and command.

CHAPTER IV.

The Shoshones, or Snake Indians, are a brave and numerous
peoph', occupying a large and beautiful tract of country, five
hundred and forty miles from east to west, and nearly three
hundred miles from north to south. It lies betwixt 38* and 43*
north latitude, and from longitude 116® west of Greenwich to the
shores of the Pacific ocefui, which there extend themselves tb
nearly the parallel of 125" west longitude. The land is rich andt
fertile, (jspeeially by the sides of numerous streams, where the sofi
is sometimes of a deep red colour, and at others entirely black.
Tlu! aspect of this region is well diversified, and though th^ greatest
part of it mu.st be classified under the denomination of rolling
Ijrairtes, yet woods are very abundant, principally near the rivers
and in the low flat bottoms; while the general landscape is agree¬
ably relieved from the monotony of too great uniformity by
numerous mountains of fantastical sliapes and appearance, entirely
unconnected with each other, and all varying in the primitive
matter of their conformation.

Masses of native copper are foimd at almost every step, and
betwixt two monntaius which spread from east to west, in the
parallel of the rivers Buona Ventura and Galamot, there are rich
beds of galena, even at two or three fecst under ground; sulphur
and magnesia appear plentiful in the northern districts; while in
the sand of the creeks to the south, gold dust is occasionally col¬
lected by the Indians. The land is admirably watered by three
noble streams—the Buona Ventura, the Calumet,'and the Nudye
aha wahOy or River of the Strangers, while twenty rivers of inferior
size rush with noise and impetuosity from the mountains, until they
enter the prairies, where they glide smoothly in long serpentine
courses between banks covered with flowers and shaded by the
thick foliage of the western magnolia. The |!dains, as I have said,
are gently undulating, and are covered with excellent natural
pastures of moskito-grass, blue grass, and ctefver, in which ifinn-
merable herds of buffaloes and mustangs, or wild horses, grnac,
exet pt during the hunting season, in undisturbed seeurity.

20 TBAVELS AND ADVENTUBIGS OF

The Shoshones* are indubitably a very ancient people. It would
be impossible to say how long they may have been settled on this
portion of the continent. Their cast of features proves them to be
of Asiatic origin, and Ihcir phraseology, elegant and full of meta¬
phors, assumes all the graceful variety of the brightest pages of
Saadi.

A proof of their antiquity and foreign extraction is, that but few
of their records and traditions are local; they refer to countries on
t!|ie other side of the sea, countries where the summer is perpetual,
the population numboi’less, and the cities composed of great palaces,
like the Hindoo traditions, “built by the good genii, long before
the creation of man.”

There is no doubt, indeed it is admitted by the other tribes, that
the, Shoshone is the parent tribe of the Comanches, Arrapahoes,
and Apaches—the Bedouins of the IMexican deserts. They all
speak the same beautiful and harmonious language, have the same
traditions; and, indeed, so recent have been their subdivisions, that
they point out the exact periods by connecting them with the
various events of Spanish inland conquest in the northern portion
of Sonora.

It is not my intention to dwell long upon speculative theory, but
I must observe, that if any tradition is to be received with confi¬
dence, it must proceed from nations, or tribes, who have long been
stationary. That the northern continent of America was first
peopled from Asia, there can be little doubt, and if so, it is but
natural to suppose that those who first came over would settle upon
the nearest and most suitable territory. The emigrants who, upon
their landing, found themselves in such a climate and such a
country as California, were not very likely to quit it in search of
a better.

That such was the case with the Shoshones, and that they are
descendants from the earliest emigrants, and that they have never
quitted the settlement made by their ancestors, I have no doubt,
fbr all their traditions confirm it.

* The American trovellerB (even Mr. CatUn, who is generally correct) have
enUroly mistaken the country inhabited by the Shoshones. One of thorn repre¬
sents this tribe as “the Indians who inhabit that part of the liocky Mountains
which lies on the Grand and Green Biver branches cf the Colorado qf the
West, the vaUep qf Great Bear Biver, and the hospitable shores qf the Great
Satf Lehes.** It is a great error. That the Shoshones may have been seen in
^ idt)ove<.mentioned places is likely enough, as they arc a great nation, and often
rilibd expeditions very far from their homes; but their own country lies, as I
have said, betwixt the Pacific Ocean and the 116th degree of west longitude.
As to the hospitable shores of the Great Salt Lake, 1 don’t know what it means,
unless it be a modem Yankee expression for a tract of horrid swamps with
deadly eflluvki, tenanted by millions of snakes and other “such hospitable
reptiles,’’ The lake Is situated on the western country of the Crows, and I
doubt if it hsf ever been visited by any Shoshone.

MON8IEOU VIOLET.

21

We must 1)6 cautious how we put faith in the remarlts of mis¬
sionaries and travellers, upon a race of people little known. They
seldom come into contact with the better and higher classes, who
have all the information and knowledge; and it is only by becom¬
ing one of them—not one of their tribes, but one of their chiefs—and
being received into their aristocracy, that any correct intelligence
can be gained.

Allow that a stranger was to arrive at Wapping or elsewhere, in
Great Britain, and question those he met in such a locality as to
the religion, laAvs, and history of the English, hoAv unsatisfactory
would be their replies; yet missionaries and travellers among these
nations seldom obtain farther access. It is therefore among the
better classes of the Indians that we must search for records,
traditions, and laws. As for their religion, no stranger will ever
obtain possession of its tenets, unless he is cast among them in
early life and becomes one of them.

Let missionaries say what they please in their reports to their
societies, they make no converts to their faith, except the pretended
ones of vagrant and vagabond drunkards, who are outcasts from
their tribes.

The traditions of the Shoshones fully bear out my opinion, that
they were among tlie earliest of the Asiatic emigrants; they contain
histories of subsequent emigrations, in Avhich they had to fight
hard to retain their lands; of the dispersion of the new emigrants
to the north and south; of the increase of numbers, and breaking
up of portions of the tribes, who travelled away to seek subsistence
in the east.

We find, as might be expected, that the traditions of the eastern
tribes, collected as they have occasionally been previous to their
extinction, are trifling and absurd; and why so? Because, driven
away to the east, and finding other tribes of Indians, who had been
driven there before them, already settled there, they have immedi-
diately commenced a life of continual hostility and change of
domicile. When people have thus been occupied for generations
in continual warfare and change, it is but natural to suppose that
in such a life of constant action, they have had no time to transmit
their traditions, and that ultimately they have been lost to tho
tribe.

We must then look for records in those quarters where the popu¬
lation has remained stationary for ages. It must be in the southr
west of Oregon, and in the northern parts of Upper California and
Sonora, that the philosopher must obtain the eventful history of
vast warlike nations, of their rise and of their fall. The western
Apaches or the Shoshones, with their antiquities and ruins of de¬
parted glory, will unfold to the student’s mind long pages of a
thrilling interest, while in their metaphors and rich phraseology,

22 TKAVJBLS AN» ADVENXUJIJ38 0*‘

the linguist} learned in Asiatic lore, will easily detect their ancient
origin.

It is remarkable to observe, how generally traditions and records
trill spread and be transmitted among nations destitute of the
htoefits of the art of printing. In Europe, the mass were certainly
better acquainted viith their ancient history before this great dis¬
covery than they are in om* days, for traditions were then handed
down from family to family—it was a duty, a sacred one, for a
father to transmit them to his son unadulterated, such, in I’act, as
he had received them from his ancestors. It is the same case with
ihe Indians who have remained stationary for a long period. It
la In the long evenings of February, during 1 he hunting season, that
the eldi^s of the tribe will reveal to the young warriors all the re-
<» 3 rds of their history; and were a learned European to assist at
one of these **lectures vpon antiquity** he wmuld admit that, in
harmony, eloquence, strength of argument, and deduction, the red-
coloured orator could not eas% be surpassed.

The Shoshones have a clear and lucid recollection of the far coun-
trtes from whence they have emigrated. They do not allude to any
particular period, but they must have been among the first comers,
for they relate with great topographical accuracy all the bloody
struggles they had to sustain against newer emigrants. Often
beaten, they were never conquered, and have always occupied the
glN>u!id which they had selected from the boginniog.

TTnlike the groat families of the D ihcotahs and Algonquins, who
' y^ retain the predominant characteristics of the wandering nations
of South-west Asia, the Shoshones seem to have been in all ages a
hgtlon warlike, though stationary. It is evident that they never
were a wealthy people, nor possessed any great knowledge of the
^s and sciences. Their records of a former country speak of rich
lUountatnous districts, with balmy breezes, and trees covered with
sweet and beautiful fruits; but when they mention large cities,
palaces, temples, and gardens, it is always in reference to other
nations, with whom they were constantly at war; and these tradi¬
tions would induce us to believe that they are descendants of the
Mancheoux Tai*tars.

They have in their territory; on both sides of the Buona Ventura
river, mab^iu^Lgnlficent remains of devastated cities; but although
cqijoaeCTOd Jwith a fotmer period of their history, they were not
erected h;^^the Shoshones.

The foui^tains, aqueducts, the heavy domes, and the long gi*ace-
fbl ob^lsks, rising at the feet of massive pyramids, show indubitably
the long presence of a highly civilized people; and the Shoshones’
accounts of these mysterious relics may serve to philosophers as a
key to the remarkable foot of thousands of similar ruins found
every wheife upon the continent of America. The following Is a dc-

aiONeiKUB VlOliET.

2S

script ion of events at a very remotx) period, which was related by
iui old Shoshone saf?e, in thoir evening encampment in the prairies,
during the hunting season:—

“It is a long, long while, when the wild horses were unknown in
the country,* and when the buffalo alone ranged the vast prairies;
then, huge and horrid monsters existed. The approaches of the
mountains and forests were guarded by the evil spirits,t while the
sea shore, tenanted by immense lizards,! was often the scene of
awful conflicts Ix^tween nlan, tlie eldest son of liglit, and the mighty
children of gloom and darkness. Then, too, the land we Aow live
in had another form; brilliant stones were found in the streams;

• Horses were unknown until the arrival of the Spaniards. ,

t Skeletons of the mammoth are often found whole at the foot of the Grand
Serpent, a long^ugged mountain whicl» runs for 360 miles under the parallel of
40"^ north lat. It extends from tlie centre of the Shoshone territory to the ve^
country of the Crows; tliat is to say, from the HOth to the 113th degree
long. It is posable that tills race may not have been yet quite extinct in the
middle of the 17th century; for, indeed, in their family records, aged warriolrs
will often speak of awful encounters in which their great-great>grandfathera
had fought against the monster. Some bf them have still in their possession,
among other trophies of days gone bye, teeth and bones highly polished, which
belong indubitably to this animal, of which so little is known. Idr. Eoaa Odx, In
the relation of his travels across tlie llocky Mountains, says, “ thM the Upper
Crees, a tribe who inhabit tlie country in the vicinity of the Athabasca liver,
have a curious tradition witli respect to these animals. They allege, * that diese
animals were of fri^itful magnitude; that they formerly lived in the jdalhA a
great distance in the south, where they had destroyed all the gama, after which
they retired to the mountains. They killed everything; and if thfdr agility had
been eeiual to their sixe and ferocity, they would have destroyed all the Indiani.
One man assorted, thkt his great-grandfather told him he saw one of those ani«
mols in a mountain-pass, where he was hunting, and that on hearing its ro&r,
which he compnred to loud thunder, tlie sight ^most left his eyes, and his heart
became as small as that of a child's.’ "

! A few miles from the Paoido Ocean, and at the foot of a mountain, called
by the Slioshones the Dwelling of the Monster, were found the remains of aj^
immense lizard, belonging to an extinct hunily of the saurian species. 'Withlih
a few inches of the surface, and buried in a bed of shells and petrified fish, ouir
old missionary. Padre Antonio, digged up flfty-one vertobrsc quite wholtt and
well preserved. They were mostly from twelve to eighteen inches in length, and
from eight to fourteen inches in diameter, measuring in all more than fifty feet
in length. Of the tail and neck but few vertebrae wwe found, but there were
many fragments of the^ribs and of the leg-bones. the vertebraj were dis¬
covered In a coniinuous line, nearly joined togctlier. The head, to correspond
with the other parts of the animal, must have been twdve or fourteen ftet
which would have gi ven to the monster the almost incredible length of eighty feet. •

The Prince Seravalle, while digging, in the fall of the year 1834, for an am*
munition store on the western banks of the Buona Ventura^ picked up a beau¬
tiful curved Ivory tusk, three feet long, which, had it not been for its jet black
colour, would have been amazingly alike to that of a large elephant.

Some pieces of it (for unhappily it was sawn into several parts) are no# in
the possession of the governor of Monterey and Mr. Lagraxige, a Canadian
trader, who vialted the territory in 1840.

24 THAVliLd AKD AWVENTCȣS OJT

the mountains had not yet vomited their burning bowels, and the
great Master of Life was not angry with his red children.

One summer, and it was a dreadful one, the moon (».«. the sun)
remained stationary for a long time; it was of a blood red colour,
and gave neither nights nor days. Takwantoua, the spirit of evil,
had conquered Nature, and the sages of the Shoshones foresaw
many dire calamities. The great Medecines declared that the
country would soon be drowned in the blood of their nation. They
prayed in vain, and olferod, without any success, two hundred of
their fairest virgins in sacrifice on the altars of Takwantona. The
evil spirit laughed, and answered to them with his destructive
thunders. The earth was shaken and rent asunder; the waters
ceased to flow in the rivers, and large streams of fire and burning
sulphur rolled down from the mountains, bringing with them t(‘rror
and death. How long it lasted none is living to say; and wlio
could? There stood the bleeding moon; ’twas neither light nor
obscurity; how could man divide the time and the seasons? Tt may
have been only the life of a worm; it may have been the long age
of a snake.

” The struggle was fearful, but at last the good Master of Life
broke his bonds. The sun shone again. It was too late; the Sho¬
shones had been crushed and their hearts had become small; they
were poor, and had no dw^cllings; they were like the doer of the
prairies, hunted by the hungry panther.

“And a strange and numerous people landed on the shores of the
sea; they were rich and strong; t>.ey made the Shoshones their
slaves, and built large cities, where they passed all their time.
Ages passed: the Shoshones a* ore squaws; they hunted for the
mighty strangers; they wore beasts, for they dragged wqod and
water to their great wigwams; they fished for them, and they
themselves starved in the midst of plenty. Ages again passed: the
Shoshones oould bear no more; they ran aAvay to the woods, to the
mountains, and to the borders of the sea; and, lo 1 tho great Father
of Life smiled again upon them; tho evil genii were all destroyed,
and the monsters buried in the sands.

“ They soon became strong, and great warriors; they attacked
the strangers, destroyed their cities, and droVe them, like buffa¬
loes, far to the south, where the sun is always burning, and from
whence they did never return.

“ Since that time, the Shoshones have been a great people. Many,
many times strangers arrived again; but being poor and few, they
were easily compelled to go to the east and to the north, in the
countries of the Crows, Flatheads, WaUah 'Wallahs, and Jal Alla
Pujees (tlie Calapooses).’*

I have selected this tradition out of many, as, allowing for meta¬
phor, it appears to be a very correct epitome of tho history of the

MONMUBUB VlOliXlT.

25

Shoshones in former times. The very circumstance of their
acknowledging that they were, for a certain period, slaves to that
race of people who built the cities, the ruins of which'still attest
theii’ magnificence, is a strong proof of the outline being correct.
To the modern Shoshones, and their manners and customs, I shall
refer in a future portion of my narrative,

CHAPTER V.

Eveby point having been arranged, I received my final instructions
and letters for the Governor of Monterey, to wlrich was added a
heavy bag of doubloons for my expenses. I bade farewell to the
Prince and my father, and with six well-armed Indians, and the
Padre Marini, 1 embarked in a long canoe on the Buona Ventura
river, and carried away by the current, soon lost sight of our lone¬
some settlement.

We were to follow the stream to the southern lakes of the Buona
Ventura, whore we were to leave our Indians, and join some half-
bred Wachinangocs, returning to Monterey with the mustangs, or
wild horses, which they had captured in the prairies.

It w'.as a beautiful trip, just at the commencement of the S|»ing;
both shores of the river were lined with evergreens; the grass was
luxuriant, and immense herds of buffaloes and wild horses were to
be seen grazing in every direction. Sometimes a noble stallion, his
long sweeping mane and tail waving to the wind, would gallop down
to the water’s edge, and watch us as if he would know our inten¬
tions. When satisfied, he would walk slowly back, ever and aaon
turning round to look at us again, as if not quite so convinced of
our peaceful intentions.

On the third night we encamped at the foot of an obelisk in the
centre of some noble ruins. It was a sacred spot with ‘the Sho-.
shones. Their traditions told them of another race, who had for¬
merly lived there, and which had been driven by them to the south.
It must have been ages back, for the hand of time, so lenient in this
climate, and the hand of man, so little given to spoil, had severely
visited this feted city.

We remained there the following day, as Padre Marini was
anxious to discover any carvings or hieroglyphics from which he
might draw some conclusions; but our endeavours were not suo^
cessful, and we could not tarry longm*, as we were afraid that the
horse-hunters would break up their encampments before we ar¬
rived. We* therefore, resumed our journey, and many were the
disquisitions and conjectures which passed between me and the
reverend father, as to the high degree of civilization which must
have existed among the lost race who had been the architects of
such graceful buildings.

26 TEAVELS Ann ADVBNTUliE8 OF

Four days more brought us to the southern shore of the St. Jago
lahe. "We arrived in good time, dismissed our Indians, and liaving
piU^ehased two excellent mules, we proceeded on our journey, in
dempany with the horse-hunters, surrounded by hundreds of their
imptives, who were loudly lamenting their destiny, and showed
their sense of the injustici^ of the whole proceeding by kicking and
striking with their foro-feet at whatever might c:ome withiu the
reach of their hoofs. Notwithstanding the very unruly conduct of
the prisoners w'e arrived at Monterey on the sixth evening.

The reader will discover, as he proceeds, that my adventures are
about to commence ft’om this journey to Monterey; I therefore
wish to remind him that I was at t’nis time not eighteen years old.
I had a remembrance of civilization previous to my sirrival among
the Indians; and as we enjoyed every comfort, and some luxuries
at the settlement, I still had a remembrance, although vague,
of what passed in Italy and elsewhere. But I had become an
Indian, and until I heard that I was to untlortnko this jouriiey,
I had recollected the former scenes of my youth only to despise
them.

That this feeling had been much fostered by the idea that I should
never again rejoin them, is more than probable; for from the mo¬
ment that I heard that I was to proceed to Monterej', my heart
beat tumultuously, and my pulse was doubled in its circulation. I
hardly know what it was' that I anticipated, but certainly I had
formed the idea of a terrestrial paradise.

If not exactly a paradise. Monterey is certninly a sweet place;
it’s even now a fairy spot in inv recolteolioTi, although sobered
down, and, I trust, a little wise** than I was at that time- There
certainly, is an air of happiness spread over this small town.
Every one is at their ^ase, everj'^body sings and smiles, and evory
hour is dedicated to amusement or repose.

None of your dirty streets and sharp pavements, no mani^ao-
tories with their eternal smoke, no policemen looking like .so many
knaves of clubs, no cabs nor omnibuses splashing the mud to the
right and to the left, and, above all, none of your punctual men of
business hurrying to their appointments, blowing like steam-en¬
gines, elbowing everybody, and capsizing the apple stalls. No;
there is none of these at Monterey.

There is a bay, blue, and Imttomless, with shores studded witli
tall beautiful timber. There is'a prairie lawn, spread like a carpet
in patterns composed of pretty wild flowers. Upon it stand
hundreds of cottage-built tenements, covered with the creeping
vine. In the centre, the presidio, or government-house; on one
sld® the graceful spire of a church, on the other the massive walls
of a conveirf. Above, all is a sky of the deepest cobalt blue, richly
contracting with the dark green of the tall pines, and the un-

MONSIKUB VIOLET. 2^7

certain and indescribable tints on the horizon of these western
prairies.

Even the dogs are polite at Monterey, and the horses, which are
always grazing about, run up to you, and appear as if they would
welcome you on your arrival; but the fact is, that every traveller
carries a bag of salt at his saddlo-bow, and by their rubbing their
noses against it, it is clear that they come to beg a little salt, of
which they are very fond. Everybody and every animal is familiar
with you; and, strange to say, tiie English who reside there are
contented, and still more sti'ange, the Americans are almost
honcvSt. What a beautifVil climate it must be at Monterey!

Their hospitality is unbounded. “The holy Virgin bless thee!*'
said an old inan, who watched our coming, “tarry here and honour
my roof.’* Another came up, and shook us by the hand, liis eyes
sparkling with kind feelings. A third took our mules by the
bridles and led us to his ovm door, when half-a^dozen pretty girls,
with flashing d^rk eyes and long taper fingers, insisting on undoing
our loggings and taking off our spurs.

Queen city of California! to me there is poetry m thy very
name, and .so would it bo to all who delight in honesty, bon-
hommie, simplicity, and the doloe far niente.

Notwithstanding the many solicitations we received, Padre Ma¬
rini wont to the convent, and I took up my quarters with the old
governor.

All was now to mo, and pleasant too, for I was not eighteen;
and at such a time one has strange dreams and fancies of small
waists, and pretty faces, smiling cunningly. My mind had some'
times reverted to former scenes, when I had a mother and a
sister. I had sighed for a partner to dance or waltz with on the
green, while our old servaut w'as playing on his violin some anti¬
quated en avant deux.

Now I had found all that, and a merry time I had of it. True,
the sack of doubloons helped me wonderfully. Within a. week
after my arrival, 1 had a magnificent saddle embossed with silver,
velvet breeches instead of cloth leggings, a hat and feathers,
glossy pumps, red sash, velvet round-about, and the large cape.qr-
cloak, the eternal, and sometimes the only, garment of a western
Mexican grandee, in winter or in summer, by night or by day. I
say it was a merry time, and it agreed well with me.

Dance I did! and sing and court too. My old travelling com-
panion, the missionary, remonstrated.a little, but the girls laughed
at him, and I clearly pointed out to him that he was wrong. If my
English readers only knew what a sweet, pretty llttje thing is a
Monterey ^rl, they would all pack up their wardrobes to go there
and get married; it would be a great pity, for with your mistaken
ideas of comforts, with your love of coal fir^ and raw beettsteak,

TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OV

together with your severe notions of what is proper or improper,
you would soon spoil the place, and render it as stiff and gloomy
as any sectarian village of the United States, with its nine banks,
eighteen chapels, its one a-b-c school, and its immense stone jail,
very considerately made large enough to contain its W'hole popula¬
tion.

The governor was General Morreno, an old soldier of the
genuine Castilian stock; proud of his blood, proud of his daugh¬
ters, of himself, of his dignities, proud of everything; but, withal,
he was benevolence and hospitality personified. His house was open
to aU (that is to say, all who could boast of having white blood),
>and the time passed there in continual fiestas, in which pleasure
(succeeded to pleasure, music to dancing; courting with the eyes
jto courting with the lips, just as lemonade succeeded to wine, and
Ipreams to grapes and peaches. But, unhappily, nature made a
mistake in our conformation, and alas! man must repose from
pleasure as he does from labour. It is a great p^ty, for life is
short, and repose is so much time lost; at least so thought I at
eighteen.

Monterey is a very ancient city; it was founded in the seventeoth
century by some Portuguese Jesuits, who established a mission
there. To the Jesuits succeeded the Franciscans, who were a
good, lenient, lary, and kind-hearted set of fellows, funny yet
moral, thundering against vice and lo\e, and yet giving light
penances and entire absolution. Those Franciscans were shown
out of doors by the government of Mexico, who wished to possess
their wealth. It was unfortunate; as for the kmd, hospitable, and
generous monks, the govemmtnt substituted agents and officers
from the interior, who, not possessing any ties at Monterey, cared
little for the happiness of the inhabitants. The consequence is,
that the Californians arc heartily tired of these agents of extor¬
tion; they have a natural antipathy against custom-house officers;
and, above all, they do not like the idea of giving their dollars to
carry on the expense of the Mexican wars, in which they feel no
interest. Some morning (and they have very nearly succeeded in
so doing), they will haul down the Mexican flag from the presidio,
drive away the commissarios and custom-house receivers, de¬
clare their independence of Mexico, and open their ports to all
nations,

contains about three thousand souls, including the half-
breeds and Indians acting as servants in the different dwellings.
The population is wealthy, and not having any opportunity to
throw away their money, as in the eastern cities (for all their
pleasures and enjoyments are at no expense), they are fond of
oniamentii^ their persons, and their horses and saddles, with as
much fvealth as they can afford. A saddle of JEIOO in value is a

monsieur violet*.

cortiraon thing among the richer young men, who put all their pride
in their steeds and accoutrements.

The women dnsss richly and with an admirable taste; the
unmarried girls in white satin, with their long black hair falling
upon their shoulders; their brow ornamented with rich jewels when
at home, and when out, their face covered with a long white veil,
through which their dark eyes shine like diamonds.

The married women prefer gaudy coloims, and keep their hair
confined close to their head by a large comb. They have also another
delightful characteristic, which, indeed, the men share with them;
I mean a beautiful voice, soft and tremulous among the womai*
rich, sonorous, and majestic among their lords. An American
traveller has said;—“A common bullock-driver on horseback,
delivering a message seemed to speak like an ambassador to an
audience." In fact, the Californians appear to be a people on whom
a curse had fallen, and stripped them of everything but their prid^
their manners, and their voices.

There is always much amusement in Monterey, and what
betwixt cock-fighting, racing, fandangoing, hunting, fishing, sailing,
and so forth, time passes quickly away. Its salubrity is remark¬
able; there has never been any disease, indeed, sickness of any kind
is unknown. No toothache nor other malad)-', and no spleen; people
die by accident or from old age: indeed, the Montereyans have an
odd provei;b:—“ J?/ que q\dere monr gue se vaya del ptceblo;""-^
that is to say:—“ He who wishes to die must leave the city.”

While remaining there I had rather a perilous adventure. I had
gone with some of my friends to a great fishing party at the
entrance of the bay, which, by-the-bye, is one of the finest in the
world, being twenty-four miles in length, and eighteen in breadth.
The missionary, Padre Marini, not being very well, had an idea
that the sea air would do him good, and joined our company. We
had many boats; the one in which the Padre and I embarked was
a well-shaped little thing, which had belonged to some American
vessel. It was pulled with two oars, and had a small mast and sail.

Our fishing being successful, wo were all in high glee, and we
went on shore to fry some of our victims for our afternoon meal.
During the conversation, somebody spoke of some ancient ruins,
fifteen miles north, at the entrance of a small creek. The mis-^
sionary was anxious to see them, and we agreed that our companions
should return to Monterey, while he and I would pass the night
where we were, and proceed the next morning on an exploring
expedition to the ruins. We obtained from another boat a large
stone jug of water, two blankets, and a double-barrelled gun. As
soon as our companions quitted us, we pulled the boat round to the
northern point of the bay, and having selected proper quarters for
the night, we made a kind of shelter on the beach with the oars,

30 TBA.’V^ELS AND ADVENTUHES OI

mast, and Bail, and %hted a fir(' to make ourselves more conifort-
able. It was one ol those beautiful mild eveuin<?s which can be
found only in the Bay of Monterc'y; the g^mtlu anjJ periumed hnsve
softly agitated the foliage around tuid above us, and sis night came
on, with its myriads of stars and its silvay moon, the missionary,
having for some time raiscil his (yes above in sih nt contemplation,
reverb^ to scenes of the past, and of ollur climes.

He spoke of Ilurdwar, a tar <Uitant mission in tlie north of India,
close to the Himalayas. Tiu‘ Hindoos <‘all it the “City of a
Thousand Palaces;” tluy say it was built by the g<n5i on the viTy
spot where Vi&hnu had riposed himself lor a tew weeks, att<*r on ^
of his mystic transmutations, in which ho had coiuiuered Siva, or
Sahavodra, the spirit of evil. Though not so well known, Hurdw ar
is a place still more sacred than Beuaris; people asseinlile there
Once a year from all parts, and consoiTate several days to tJioir
ablutions in the piu'ilyingwaters ot the Gauges. In this noble city
is also lield one of tlie greatest fail’s of India, iruh'ed, ol all the
world; and as its time is fi\ed upon the same month as that in
which the Hindoo devotei's arrive at the city, numerous caravans
from Persia, Arabia, Caslnuere, and Lahore ri pair to the spol, and
croct their bazaars along the banks ot tlu’ river, forming a street of
many miles. The concourse coUetted at tlu'sc times has b(H.‘n
-aseertaiued to numbiT more than one million ol souls

Tliero the Padre Marini had remained as a missionary for some
years, all alone. His liock of converts was but a .small oni; he had
little to do, and yet his mind could not be arrested by liu' study of
all the wonders around him; his heart was sad; tor yeafs he had
had a sorrow which weighed heavily upon him, and lu was wretched.
Before he had einl>r.iced the siditude of a mou istic life, he had with
liim a younger brother, of whom he was \<‘ry loud. The young
man was a student in m“diciiie, with lair capacity, and an energy
which promised to advance him in Jus protession. When Marini
entered the convent, his brother wont to Turkey, where men, of his
profession were always eertaiu of a good reci'ption, apd for a long
time was never heard of. At last, when the missionary was,ready
to start for a distant mission, he learned that which proved so
destructive to his peace of mind. From (''onstantinople, his brother
had gone to Persia, where he was residing in easy circumstances;
but, ambitions of advancement, he had abjui’ed thb faith of his
fathers, and become a follower of Maliommed.

It w«w melancholy inielUgence, and many were the tears of the
good monk. The first year of his arrival at Hurdw ar, he met with
a Jewish morchaiit who had accompanied a Persian caravan. That
man knew ll^s brother, the reuegado, and informed the Padre that
Ids brotlicr had fallen into disgracis and as a punishment of his
apostasy, was now leading a life of privation and misery.

ilONSlSlTK VIOLET.

31

JDcop and fervent were now the monk's prayers to heaven; ho
implorc'd forgivt'ne&s for his brotlier, and offered penaiioe for hinl.
Poor man! lie thMight that if he could hut see him and talktohiiUt
he would redeem mm from his apostasy; but, alasJ his duty was in
llurdwar, he was bound tlu'rc and could not move. One day (it
was during the fair) he had wandered at a distance from the river,
that lu' might not witness the didusions of Paganism, and his mind
was intensely absorbed in prjiycr. Anon, unusual sounds broke
on his ears; sounds well known, sounds reminding him of his
country, ot his beautiful Italy. They came from a little bower ten
steps b(‘tore him; and as past scenes rushed to his memory, liis
heart heat tremulously iti his bosom; tho monk recognised a
barcarole which he had oft<‘n sung in his younger days; but
although tho air was li\ely, the loiee which sung it was mournful
and sad. Stepping iioisele'ssly, he stood at the entrance of the
howtr. The stranger stax’tcd and arose! Their separation had
been a long one, but neither the furrowed cheeks and sallow com¬
plexion ol the one, nor th(* turb.ined head ot the other, could deceive
tlu'iu. and the two brothers fell in each other’s arms.

On its return, the Persian caravan Ifad one driver the less, for
thc‘ apostate was on his death-bed in tho humble dwelling of his
brother. Once more a Cliristian, again reconciled to his God, he
calmly awaited his summons to a better world. For two weeks he
lingered on, repenting his error and praying tor mercy. He died,
and in the little jessamine bower where he had mot with tho Mus¬
sulman, the monk buried the Christian; he placed a cross upon his
grave and^ouriK'd him long; but a lu'avy load had hoeu removed
from his breast, and since that tune he had telt happy, liaving no
weight on his mind to disturb him in the execution of his sacred
minisl ry.

liaving nai’rated this passage in his history, the PaiU’e Marini
bade me good night, and w (> prepared to sleep. 1 went to the boat,
where, stretching myself at the bottom, with my face turned towards
the glittering canopy above, l,remiiiued pensive and reflecting upon
the narrative of the monk, until at last I slept.

CHAPTEB VI.

1 PEI.T chilly, and I awoke. It was day-light. I found myself
floating on the deep sea, far from tho shore, the outline of which
was tinged with the golden hues of morn. The rope and stick to
which the boat liad been made fast, towed through the water, aa
tho lond-bn^eze, driving me gently, increasod my distance from
tho land. For some moments I was rather scared; the oars were^
left on shore, and I had no moans of propelling my little skiff.

32 tb,avelS and adventuues of

In vain did I paddle with my hands and the stick w'hich I h&,<l
taken on board. I turned and turned again round to all the x)oint.s
of the compass, but to no purpose. At last l^begau to reflect.
The sea was smooth and quiet; .so I was in no immediate danger.
The Padre, "when he aw'oke in the morning, would discover my ac¬
cident, and perhaps see the boat; he would hasten to town, but he
would not arrive till evening; for he was an old man, and had to
walk twenty-five miles. Boats wmuld be de.si)atchGd after me; even
the Mexican schooner w'hich lay in the bay. The next morning I
was certain to be rescued, and the utmost of my misfortune
would amount to a day of fast and solitude. It was no great mat¬
ter; so I submitted to my fate, and made a virtue of necessity.

Happily ^or mo, the boat belonged to an American exceedingly
fond of fishing; and consequently it contained many necessaries
which I had before overlooked. Between the foremost thwart and
the bow there was half a barrel filled with ashes, some pieces of
charcoal, and some dried wood; under the stern-sheets wms a
smaU locker, in which I discovered a frying-pan, a box with salt
in it, a tin cup, some herbs used instead of tea by the Californians,
a pot of honey, and another full of bear’s grease. Portunatoly, the
jar of water was also on board as well as my lines, with baits of
red flannel and w'hite cotton; I threw them into the w'atcr, and pre¬
pared to smoke my cigarito. In these countries no one is without
his flint, steel, tinder, and tobacco.

, Hours passed so. My fishing being successful, I lighted a fire,
and soon fried a few fine mackerel; hue bye-and-by the sun reached
its highest position, and the scorching became so intolerable that
I was obliged to strip and spread my clothes, and even my shirt
upon the benches to obtain a shelter. By that time, I had lost sight
of land, and could only perceive now and then, some small black
points, which were the summits of the tall pines.

As soon as my meal was finished, 1 don’t Itnow why, but instead
of sleeping a decent siesta of two hours, the Spanish tonic to digest
a dinner, I never awoke before .simset; and only then, because 1
began to feel a motion tliat was far from being pleasant. In fact,
the waves wore beginning to rise in sharp ridges covered with foam;
the mild land-breeze had changed into a cool, sharp westerly wind.

A fair wind, however, was a comfort; and as I put on my clothes, I
began to think that by making a i)roper use of the helm, and stand¬
ing upright in the boat, my body would serve as a small sail, when
“lie, he, hoe!” shouted twenty voices on the larboard side of me.
I started with astonishment, as may be imagined, and turning round
perceived, fifty yards from me, a large boat driving before the
waves, impelled on by ten oars. It was filled with men, casks, and
kegs, and one at the helm was making signals, apparently inviting
me to stop, A few minutes after, we were close to each otheri

MONblUUU VIOLI.l\

33

and I (larp '^ay our astonishment was mutual,—tludrs^to see mo
alone and w itliout oars; mine, to behold such a wretched spectacle.
They were eviden^ tlie crew of a wrecked vessel, and must have
undergone frightful privations and fatigues, so emaciated was their
appearance.

No time, however, was to be lost. All of them asked for water,
and poinied to th(> horizon, to know in which direction they should
go. My stone jug was full; I handed it to the man at the helm, who
seemed to be the captain; but the honest and kind-hearted fellow,
pouring out a small quani ity in the cup, gave some to all his com¬
panions before ho would taste any himself. The jug was a large
one, containing two gallons or more, but of course was soon
emptied.

1 gave them a fried mackerel which I had kept for my supper;
they passed it to the captain, and in spite of * his genwous denial,
they insisted on his eating it immediately. Seeing which, I showed
them nine or ten other raw fishes, two or tliree of which weto
heavy, and proposed to cook them. They sang and laughed: coolc
the fish! No; llttlf* cooking is w'ant?d when men are starving.
They divided them brotherly; and this supply, added to the honey
for the captain and the bear’s grease for the sailors, seemed to have
endowed them with new life.

The captain, and four X)f the men, with oars, stepped into ray
skilF. At ttxat moment the stars were beginning to appear, and
pointing out to him one in the east as a guide, we ploughed our
way towards the shore, greatly favoured both by the wind and
the waves. ^ In a singular mixtm’e of English, French, Italian, and
Latin, tlie captain made me comprehend that his vessel had been a
Russian brig, bound from Asitka, in Russian America, to Acapulco,
in Mexico, for a supply of grain, tallow, and spirits; that it had
been destroyed by fire during the night, scarcely allowing time for
the men to launch the long boat. No provisions could be procured;
the boxes and kegs that had been taken in the hurry were of no
use; that they had been rowing forty-eight hours, without food or
water, and were ignorant of their distance ft'om the shore; and,
finally, that they had perceived my skiff a good half hour before 1
awoke; thought It at first empty, but saw me rising, and called to
me in the hope that I would guide them to a landing-place. In
return, I explained to him my adventure as well as I could, and
made Kim promises of plenty for the next day; but I might have
talked for ever to no purpose; the poor fellow, overpowered with
fatigue, and now feeling secure, had sank into a deep sleep.

At the break of day we made the land, at the entrance of a small
river and close to some fine old ruins. -It was the very spot where
I had intended to go with the Padre. There were a few wild horses
rambling in the neighbourhood; 1 cleaned my gun, loaded it again,

34 TIIAVELS AND ADV£NTUHl.b (U

and killed one; but not before the tired an'I himcfry crew, stretched
on the strand, proved by their nns,il concerts that, for the present,
their greatest necessity was rt’pose after thci^^fatigues. Theri*
were twenty of them, including the captain.

1 had led too much of an Indian life, not to know how to bear
f$t,tigue, and to be* rapid lu c\(*eution. Tlie sun was not more than
three hours high, whi'u 1 had already cooked the best part of tlio
horse. All the uniortunatos were still aslefp, anl 1 found it Avas
no easy matter to awake them. At last I hit upon an expedient
Which did not fail; I stuck the ramrod ot inv gmi inh) a smoking
piece of meat, and held it so that the tumcs should rise under thfur
very noses. No fairy wand was ever inoiv effc'dive; in less than
two minutes the> all were chewing and ^ w'^allowing their bi eakfast,
with an energy that had anything hut sleep in it It is no eas)’'
matter to satisfy twimty hungry Uussians; but still there is an end
to everything. One of them knelt before me, and ki-sscd my feet
Poor follow! he thought that 1 had done a griMt deal lor him and
his companions, forgettmg that, jierhaps, 1 ow *d my own hie to
them.

The men were tired; but when they hoard tha< they could reach
a city in the afternoon, they made pr»])aration ior <'<*pirture with
great alacrity. Wt* puUed slowl}-^ along tin cinst, loi tlu heat was
Int^se, and tho rowers fast losing thidr streu^tii 4( one o’clock
Handed at my former encamp n'^id. The Padix* had, of (ourse,
the oars, sail, and blankets. My si,id was * 1 in a moment,
as^ out of the blankets th )se in the long-ho it man U'd to make a
sail, an oar amjl a long pole tmd tof*- 1 her aiisw. rin * lor a m ist. In
doubling the northoi’U point ol the bay, J p^r-eiicd toe Mevican
schooner and many boats, pretty far at sea. INo doubt tb.y wore
searching for me.

At SLA o'clock in the evening we lauded at Monterey, amidst the
acclamations of a wondering crowd

I xvas a general favourite, and my loss had oecaslonc'd mu'*h
alarm; so that when I latided, I was assailed with qm stioiis Irom
every quarter. Tho women petted me, some kissed me (by-the-byc,
those were certain age)^ and all agreed that! should burn half-
a-doaen of candles on the altar of the Virgin Mary. There was
one, however, who had we])t for me;, it WM^ Isabella., a lovely girl
'of fifteen, aiid daughter to the old G-ovirnor. The General, too,
was glad to see mo; hc« liked m'' very much, because we played
lehess while smoking our cigars, and b ‘cause I allowed him to boat
tme, though J could have given him the qu'*cn and the move. I will
confess, sotto voce, that thi** piece of policy had been hinted to me
by his dkug^iters, who wished me to find favour in his sight.

“ Dios ie ayndo said the Governor to me; “I feared we
should nevi^r play chess any more. Qne iontena andar a dormir

MOKSIJBUU VIOIjKT. 3^

in una harca, quando se'lo podia sohre iicrra Jirmal" (What folly
1o "o sloop ill a boat wiieii it can be done upon solid groimdl)

I told him the story of the poor Russians, and in spite of his
pride, the tears started in his eye, for he was kind-hearted. He
took the captain into Jiis own house, and gave Orders coacemihg
the accommodation of the crew; but the uiiiv(;rsal hospitality had
not waited for commands to show itself, and the poor fellows,
loaded with attention and comforts, soon forgot the dangers which
they had escaped. Fifteen days after, they were sent on board the
Mexican schooner, to the baj'- of St. Francisco, where a Russian
brig of war, Iwiuid to Asitka, had just arrived. However, they did
not part from us with empty hands. The Montereyans having Uis*
covered their passionate love for tallow and whisky, had given (;hem
enough of these genteel rafraichissementa, to drown care and, sorrow
for a long while. As to the captain, he received the attention which
his gallant conduct entitled him to, and on the eve of his departure
he was presented with a trunk, of tolerable dimensions, well filled
u ith linen and clothes.

A merry night was passed to celebrate my escai)e. Gun.s had
been firtMl, flags hoi.sted to recall the boats, and at ten o'clock in the
night, the whole population was gamboling on the lawn, singing,
dancing, and feasting, as if it was to have been our last day of *
ideasure during Ijfe.

Thus passed away four weeks, and I must admit to my shame, I
had willingly missed two chances of going to Santa Fife. One
morning, however, all my drtfams offurther pleasi^e were dispelled.

J w'as just meditating upon my first declaration of love, When our
old servant arrived with four Indian guides. He had left the settle¬
ment seven da^'s, and had come almost all the way by water. He
had been despatched by ray father to bring me home, if I had not
yet left Monterey. His intelligence was disastrous: the Prince had
been murdered by the Crows; the Sho.shones liad gone chi a war
expedition to revenge the death of the Prince; and my father him¬
self, who had been daily declining, expected in a short tiuje to rejohi
his friend in a better world. Poor Zsabellal—I would have added
poor me!—but this fatal new%s liad so excited me, that I had
but few thoughts to give to y)lcasuro and to love. My immediate
return w'as a sacred duty, and, besides, the Shoshones expected Sic
to join with them on my first war-path. The old Governor judged
it advisable that I should return home by sea, as the Arrapahoe'
Indians were at that moment enemies of the Shoshones, and would
endeavour to cut me oif if I were to ascend the Bnona Ventfira.
Before ray departure, I received a visit from an Irishman, a wild
young fellow of the name of Roche, a native of Cork, afid full of fun
and activity. He liad deserted on the coast from one of the
American vessels, and in spite of the if)romised reward of forty

3f> invvrLb \^D \dvii'mubes ot

dollars he was never discovered, and his vessel sailed without
him.

(Jeneral Morreno was at first aninrv", and would have sent tlu‘
poor devil to jail, hut lloclie was so odd, and mule so manv aidful
representations of the evils ho hadsuflered on hoard, im account ol
his being a Catholic, that the tlergy, and, in fact, all Monterey,
interfered. Rocho soon becAme a v aluable at quisition to the c oni-
raimity; he was an indefatigable dancer and a good fiddler. Bt'sidcs,
he had already accustomed himself to the MexiCtin manners anl
language, and in a horse or buffalo-hunt none were more successful.
He would toll long stories to the old women about the wonders of
Erin, the miracles of St. Patrick, and about the btone at Blariiov
In fact, he was a favourite with every one, and w ould have become
rich and happy could he hav e settled. 1 Jnfortimately for him, his
wild spirit of adventure did not allow him to enjoy the quiet of a
Mtmtereyan life, and hearing that there w as a perspectiv e of getting
his head broken in the “ Settlement of the Grandees,” ho asked
permission to join my party

I consented that Roche should accompany me: with my servant
and the Indians, we embarked on board of the schooner. Many
were the presents I received from the good people; what with
pistols, powder, horses, fusils, knives, and swords, I could have
armed a whole legion. The Gov emor, his ddughij^rs, and all tho>c
that could get room in the boats, accompanied me as far as the
northern part of the bay and h was with a swelling heart that I
bade my farew'el^lo them ad

('HA.PTER \ ri.

NoffUiNQ could have been moie fortunate than our proceeding by
sea. On the fourth day we w ere lying to, at a quarter of a mile from
the shure, oitactly under the parallel of 39'^ north latitude, and at
Ifehe sbuthem point of a mountain called the CYooked Back-bone.
iPhe Hidians first landed in a small canoe we had provided our¬
selves w ith, to sec if the coast was clear; and in the evening tlie
schooner tyas f5tr ou her way back, while we were digging a cach-
eiU to cooceal tlio baggage we could not carry. Even my saddle
waa "Wrappeid up in a piece ol canvas, and dei>osited in a deep bed
of shale. A^iong other things presented to me in Monterey, were
two Jjijpgebokes covered with tin, and containing English fire-works,
whit^, in the course of events, performed prodigies, and saved
many soalpa when aU hope of imccour had been entirely given up.
The MontereyanS are amazingly tend of those fire-works, and every
vessel cmplo 3 'ed in the CalitoniU trad** lor hidf s has alw'ays it larg'^
supply of thegi.

MOKSI£(rR VIOt-ET.

37

When all oui* efifects wore conc(‘Jiled, wo proceeded first in an
oasl“rly, and next in a north-westerly direction, in the hope of
coming across some of the horses belonging to the tribe. We had
rt'ckoned right. At the break of day we entered a natural pasture
of clover, in which hundreds of them wore sleeping and gracing;
but as wo had w'alked more than thirty miles, we determined to
take repose before w e should renew' our journey.

I had soared} slept an hour when I was routed by a touch on
my shoulder. At first, I fancied it w as a dream, bnt as 1 opened
my eyes, I saw one of my Indians wth his finger upon his lips to
enjoin me to silence, while his eyes were turned tow'ards the opeii
prairie. I immodiatel} looked in that direction, and there was a
sight that acted as a prompt anlisoporiflc. About half a mile from
us stood a band of tw'cnty Indians, with their war-paint and
accoutrements, silently and quietly occupied in tying the horses.
Of course tliej wore not ot our tribe, but belonged to the Umbiquas,
a nation of thieves on our northern boundary, much given to horse¬
stealing, especially wlien U w as not accompanied by any danger.
In the present Instance they thought themseh es safe, as the Sho¬
shones had gone out against the t'r(»ws, and they were selecting at
tlieir leisure our best animals. Happily for us, we had enckmped
amidst thick bushes, upon a spot broken and difiicult of access to
quadrupeds, otherw ise w e should Iiav c been discovered, and there
would ha\e been an end to inv adventures.

w'

We awoke our companions, losing no time in forming a council
ofw'ar. Fight them we could not; let them dcxiart with the
horses W'as out ot the question. The only thing to be done was to
follow them, and w'ait an opportunity to strike a decisive blow*
At mid-dav, the thie\es, having secured as many of the animals ds
they could well manage, turned their backs to us and went on
w cstward, in the direction of the fishing station where we had
erected our boat-house; the place we had first landed at on coming
from Europe.

We followed them the whole day, eating nothii^ but the wild
plums of the prairies. At evening one of my Indians, an ex¬
perienced warrior, started alone to spy into their camp, which he
was successful enough to penetrate, and learn the plan of thefr
expedition, by certain tokens which could ndt deceive his cunning
and penetration. The boat-house Contained a large sailing boat»
besides seven or eight skiffs. ^ There also we had in store our stock
of dried fish and fishing apparatus, such as nets, &c. As w© had
been at peace for several years, the house, or Post had no garrison,
except that ten or twelve families of Indians were settled a-
round it.

Now, the original intention of the Umbiquas had been tmly to
steal horses; but having discovered that the half-a-dozen warriors,

HUWEtS AN1> ADV^NTlTBfiS Ot

belonging to these families, haH gone to the settlement for fire-arms
ami ammtuiitiot), th< y hail arranged to make an attack upon the
Post, and to take a few scalps twfore retiirnma home by sea and
by land, vith our nets, boats, tisli, &.(•• This was a serious atlair.
Our carpenter and smith hati disappeared, as I hiue said bi'fore;
and as our little fleet had in eonsequeiioe became more precious, we
determined to pr( ser\ e it at any - acribce I’o si^nd an Indian to
the settlement would liave Iw < n useless, iniismu< h as it would ha\e
materially weakened our little force, and, besides, help c<niUl not
arrive in time. It was better to try and reach the Post before the
Umbiquas; where, under tin* shelter of tbuk logs, and with the
advantage of our rifles, we should bt' an equal inatih for our
enemies, who had but two (usds among th< ir party, the rtmainder
being armed with lances, and bows and arrows. Our scout had
also gathered, by oierheanng their tonver'.ation, that they had
come by sea, amt that their canoes were hid somewhere on the
coast, in tho neighbourhood ol the Post.

The following particulars will give tho lemler a tolerably
accurate idea of our position. Plfty miles north from us were
the forks oi the Jvu-cli,)e-sh.i-wako river, towards which the Um¬
biquas were going, to be near to water, ami also to tall upon
the path from the settleintnit to tlu* Post Thus they would inter¬
cept any messenger, in case their expedition shouhl nave been
already discovered. Their direct road to the Post was consider.!^
bly shorter, but after the hrst day's journev, no sweet grass nor
water was to be found. Th ^ around vas broken, and coven'd w ith
thick bushes, which would not allow them to pass with the horses
Besides this reason, an Indian always selects his road where he
thinks he has nothing to fear. We determined to take the direi't
road to the Post, and chaiu’e assisttni us in a singular manner.
The Indians and my old servant were asleep, while I was watch¬
ing with the Irishman, Itoche. T soon became aware that some¬
thing waih moving in tho prairie behind us, but w fi.it, I could not
make out. The buffiiloes never come so tar west, and it was not
the season for the wolves- 1 crawled out ot our bush, and after a
few minutes found myself in the middle of a b'lml of horses, who
had not allowed themselves to be taken, but had loll owed the tracks
pf their coippanions, to know wh.it had becomi* ol them, f
returned, awokp the Indians and told them; they started with their
lassos, whjfe I and Boche remdined ti) sleep.

tiOng hPfoTc mom the Indian scout guided us to throe miles
westward, liphind a swell of the prairie. It was an excellent pre¬
caution, which prevented any Umbiqiia straggler from perceiving
ns>—a rathi'r disagreeable event, whicli would liave undoubtedly
happened, as vm were camped only two miles from them and the
prajrle was iUt until you came to the swell just mentioned. There

MONsiEun vrotiET. 39

wc boheld seven Strong horses, bridled with om* lassos. We had
no saddles; but necessity rides without one. The Indians had also
hilled a one-year-old colt, and taken enough of the meat to last us
two days; so that when we started (and we did so long before the
Umbiquas bffgan to stir) we had the prospect of reaching the
fishing-post thirty hours before them. •

We knew that they would rest two hours in the day, as they
were naturally anxious to keep their stolen horses in good condi¬
tion, having a long journey before them ere they would enter into
their own territory. With us, the case was different; there were
but lii*ty miles, which wo could trav(‘l on horseback, and we did
not care what became of the animals afterwards. Consequently,
we did not spai'e their legs; the spirited things, plump as they
w(‘re, having grazed two months without any labour, carried ns
fast enough. Wlien we halted, on the bank of a small river, to
water them and let them breathe, they did not appear much tired,
alth(»ugh we had had a run of twenty-eight miles.

At about eleven o’clock we reached the eonfinea of the rocky
ground; here we rested for three hours, and took a meal, of which
we were very much in u ant, haring tasted nothing but berries and
plums since our departure from the schooner, for we had been so
much engrossed by the dijj^iug of the cachette that we had forgot¬
ten to take with us any kind of provision. ^

Our flight, or, to say better, our journey, passed without any¬
thing remarkable. We arrived, as we had expected, a day and a
half before the Umbiquas, and, of course, were prepared for them.
The squaws, children, and valuables were ah-eady in the boat¬
house, with plenty of water, in case the enemy should attempt to
fire it. The presence of a hostile war-party had been singularly
discovered two days before; three children having gone to a little
bay at a short distance from the po.st, to catch some young seals;
discovered four canoes secured at the foot of a rock, while, a little
farther, two young men were seated near a fire, cooking comforta¬
bly one of the seals they had taken. Of Course the .children
returned home, ami the only three men who had been left at the
Post (three old men) went after their scalps. They had not returned
when Ave arrived; but in the evening they entered the river with'
the scalps of the two Umbiquas, whom they had surprised, and the
canoes, which were safely deposited in the store.

Our position was, indeed, a stremg one. Fronting us to the north,
we had a large and rapid river; on the south we Were flanked by a
ditch forty feet broad and ten feet deep, which isolated the buildup
from a fine open ground, without any bush, tr^, or cover j the fiivo
wings were formed by small brick towers twenty feet high, with
loop-holes, and a door ten ieet from the groundj the ladder to
which, of course, we took inside. The only Other enta-anco, the

40 TRAVELS AND ADVENTUllES OF

main one in fact, was toy water; tort it could toe approached only toy
swimming'. Ilie fort was touilt of stone and toriclc, while the door,
made of thiclc i>osts, and lined with «.heets of copper, would ha\e
defied, for a long time, the power of their a^es or fire. Our only
anxiety was about tlie inflammable quality of the roof, which wa^
OOverctt with pine shingles. Against such an accident, however, we
prepared ourselves, by carrying water to the upper rooms; and w e
could at any time, if it became necessary, open holes in the rool, for
the greater facility of extinguishing the fire. In the meantime, we
covered it with a coat of clay in the parts which w'cre most o\-
poged.

Wo were now ten men, seven of us armed w ith fire-arms and
psretty certain of our aim; wc had also sixteen w omen and nine
children, boys and girls, to whom various posts were assigned, in
case of a night attack. The six warriors who had gone to the set¬
tlement for fire-arms would return in a short time, and till then w e
had nothing to do tout to be cautious, to wait for the ou'^ni \, and e\ en
bear their first attack without using onr firt-arms, that they migljl
not suspect onr strength inside. One of the old men, a cunning
fellotv, who had served his time as a brave warrior, hit upon a plan
which wo followed. He proposed that another man should accom¬
pany him to the neighbourhood of the place where the canoes had
been concealed, and keep up the fires, so that the smol e should lull
all suspicion. The CJmbiquas, on their arrival before the Post,
would indubitably send oi.e of their men to call the canoe keepers,
this one they would endeavo^ir to tat alive, and bring him to the
Post. One of the canoes was const qucntly launched in the river,
and late in the evening the two Indians, well armed with fusils,
started on this expedition.

CHAPTER Vm.

S

The Umtoiquas came at last; their want of precaution showed their
certainty of success. At all events, they did not suspect there were
any fire-arms in the block-house, for they halted within fifty yards
fhom the eastern tower, and it required more than persuasion to
prevent Roche from firing. The horses were not with them, but
befiDW® Itjfig we saw the animals on the other side of the river, in a
)!$^e opfifi p^irie, under the care of two of their party, who had
swam %ein ^ver, two or three miles above, for the double purpose
Of having thom at hand in case of emergency and of giving them the
S^vantage of bettor grazing than they could possibly find on our
Side. This was an event which wc had not reckoned upon, yet,
alter all, it proved to be a great advantage to us.

The savages, making a very close inspection of the jouter build-

MOMSI^UB VIOXCT.

41

ings, soon bocamo convinced of the utter impossibility of attacking
the place by any ordinary means. They shot some arrows, and
once fired with a fusil at the loop-holes, to ascertain if there w^
any men within capable of fighting; but as we kept perfectly quiet,
their confidence augmented; and some followed the banks of the
river, to see what could be effected at tlie principal entrance.
Having ascertained the nature of its material, they seemed rather
disappointed, and retired to about one hundred j^ard-s, to concert
tlieir plans.

It was clear that some of them were for firing the building; but,
as wt^ could distinguish by their gestures, these were comparatively
few. Others seemed to represent that, by doing so, they would in¬
dubitably consume the property inside, which they were not willing
to destroy, especially as there w^as so little danger to be feared from
within. At last one, who seemed to he a chief, pointed first with
his fingers in the direction where their canoes had been left; he
pointed also to the river, and then behind him to the point of the
horizon wdiere the sun rises. After he had ceased talking, two of
his men rose, and went away to the south-west. Their plan was
very evident. These two men, joined with the two others that had
been left in charge, were to bring the (^^noes round the point and
enter the ri\ er. It w'ould take them the whole night to effect this,
and at sunrise they would attack and destroy the front door witli
their tomahawks.

"Wilh the darkness of night, a certain degree of anviety came over
us, for we knew not what devilish plan the Indians might hit upon;
1 plac^ sentries in every corner of the block-house, and we waited
in silence; while our enemies, having lighted a large fife, cooked
their victuals; and though we could not heaf the import of their
words, it was evident that they considered tlie Post as in their
power. Half of them, however, laid down to sleep, and tow^ards
midnight the stillness was uninterrupted by any sound, whilst their
half-bimpit logs ceased to throw up their bright ffames. Knowing
how busy we should be in the morning, I thou^t thait till then 1
could not do better than refresh myself by a few hours’ repose, I
was mistaken.

I had scarcely closed my eyes, when I heard the dull and regular
nois(^ of the ave upon trees. I looked cautiously; the sounds
proceeded from a distance. Upon the shores of the river, and
behind the camp ot the savages, dark forms were moving in every
direction, and we at last discovered that the Umbiquas were
making ladders to scale the upper doors of our little towers. This,
of course, w'as to us a matter of little or no consideration, as we
were well prepared to receive thepi? yet we determined not to let
them know our strength within, until the last moment, when We
should be certain, with our fire-arms, to bring down five of them at

42 tbaVels ano adventures or

the first (lischarge. Our Indians took their «!, and selected only

suck arrows as were used by their children when fishing, so that
the hostile party mig^t attribute their wounds and the defence of the
budding to a few bold and resolute boys.

At mom, the Umbiquas mado their appi'araneo with two lad¬
ders, eaeh carried b> three men, vihile others were lingering about
and giving directions more by signs than by words. They often
looked toward the loop-holes, but the light ot dav was yet too faint
for their glances to detect us; and besides, they were lulled into
perfect security by the dead silence we had kept during the whole
n^ht, Iixdeed, they thought the boat-house had been deserted, and
the certain degree of caution with which they proceeded was more
the effect of savage cunning and nature, than the li’ar of being seen
or of meeting with any kind of resistance.

The two ladders were fixed against ono of the towers, and an
Indian ascended upon each; at first they cast an inquisitive glance
through the holes on both sides of the door, but we conc<‘a.led our¬
selves. Then nil the Umbiquas formed bi a circle round the lad¬
ders, uith their bows and spears, watching the loop-holes At the
chief's command, the first blows were struck, and the Indians on
the ladders bc?au to batt^ both doors with their tomahawks.
■While In the act of striking for the third time, the Umbiqna iit the
eastern door stagg(‘red and fell down the ladder, his breast had
been pierced by an arrow. At the same moment a loud scream
from the other tower show<>d that there also w'e had liad tlie same
success.

The Umbiquas retired precipitately with their dead, uttering a
yell of disappointment and rage, to which three of our boys, being
ordered so to do, responded with.a shrill war-whoop of defiance.
This made the Umbiquas quiti* frantic, but they were now mori*
prudent. The arrow s that had killed their comrades were chUdren-
arrows; still there could be no doubt but that they had been shot
by warriorh. They retirexl behind a projecting rock on ifkB bank
of the river, only thirty yards in our front, but quite protected from
ofir missiles. There they farmed a council of war, and waited for
their mon and canoos, which they expected to have arrived long
before. At that moment, the light fog which had been hovering
over the riier was dispersed, the other shore became visible, and
showed US a sight which arrested our attention. There, too, the
drama of destruction was acting, although on a smaller scale.

Just opposite to us was a canoe—the same in whiph our two
Indians hod gone upon their expedition the day before. The two
Umbiquas keeping the stolen horses were a few yards from it; they
had apparently discovered it a few minutes before, and were un¬
certain what course to pursue; they had heard both the war-
whoop and tho yell of their own people, and were not a little

MON8IEDB VlOWEt. 43

puzzled; but as soon as the fog was entirely ffone, they percseived
their i)arty‘ wh<‘r(} tliey had sheltered themselves, and, probably in
ol>edionce to some signals from it, they prepared to cross the river.
At the very moment tlioy wore untying the canoe, there was a flash
and two sharp reports; the Indians fell down—they were dead.
Our two scouts, who w('re concealed Iwhind some bushes, then ap¬
peared, and began coolly to take the scalps, regardless of a shower
of arrows from the yelling and disappointed TJmbiquas. Nor was
this all: in their rage and anxiety, oxn* enemies had exposcKl them¬
selves heyond the protection of the rock; they presented a fair
mark, and just as the chief was looking behind him, to see if there
M as any niox ement to fear from the boat-house, four more of his
moil fell under our tiro.

Th(‘ horrible yells which followed I can never di*scribe, although
the events of tliis, my first fight, are yet fresh in my mind. The
Uinbiquas took their dead, and turned to the oast, in the direction
of the mountains, which they believed would be their only means
of escaping destruction. They were now reduced to only ten men,
and their appearanr ‘0 was melaneholy and dejected. They felt that
they were doomed never more to return to their own home.

We gathered from our snouts opposite, tliai tho six warriors of
the Post liad returned from the settletPnt, and lay somewhere in
ambush; this dwided us. Descending by the ladders which the
Indians had loft behind them, we entered tlie prairie path, so as to
bar their retreat in every direction.

Let me ^ ind up this tale of slaughter. The XJmbiquas fell head¬
long op llie ambush, by wliich four more of them were killed; the
remainder dispersed in tUe prairie, where they tried in vain to
obtain a momentary refuge in the chasms. Before mid-day they
were all destroyed, except one, who escaped by crossing the river.
However, he never saw ms home again; for, a long time afterwards,
tile XJmbiquas declared that not one ever returned from that fatal
horse-steahng expedition.

Thus ended my first fight; and yet I had not myself drawn a
single trigger. Many a time I took a certain aim; but my heart
beat quick, and I felt queer at tlie idea of taking the life of a man.
This did not prevent me from being highly complimented; hence¬
forward Owato Wanisha was a warrior.

The next day 1 left the boat-house with my own party, I mean
the seven of us who had come from Monterey. J^ing all well
mounted, we shortly reached the settlement, from which I liad been
absent more than three months.

Events had turned out better than I hail anticipated. My father
seemed to recover rapidly from the shock ho had received. Our
tribe, in a fierce inroad upon the southqfii country of the Crowp,-^
had inflicted upon them a severe punishment. Our men returned

44 TBAVELS AND ADVENTURES 01

•Rrith a hundred and fifty scalps^ four hundred horses, and all the
stock of blankets and tobacco wMch the Crows liad, a short time
before, obtained from the Yankees in cxchaiif^e fi)r their furs For
a long time the Crows were di&i)irited and nearly broken down,
and, this year they scarcely dared to resort to their own hunting-
grounds. The following is a narrative ot the death of the Prince
Seravalle, as I heard it from individuals who were present.

The year after we had arrived from Europe, tlio Prince had an
opportunity of sending letters to 8t. Louis, Missouri, by a company
of traders homeward bound. More than three years had elapsed
without any answer; but a few days after my departure for Mon¬
terey, the Prince having heard from a party of Shoshones, on their
return from Fort Hall, that a large cara\ an w'as expected there, he
resolved to proceed to the fort himself, for the double purpose of
purchasing several articles of hardware, which were in need of,
and also of forwarding other instructions to St. Louis.

Upon his arrival at the fort, he was agreeably surprised at
finding not only letters for him, together with ^arious bales of
goods, but also a French savant, l>oiind to (’alifornia, whither he had
beak sent by some scientific society. He was recommended to us
by the Bishop, and the P^ident of the college, at St. Louis, and
had brought with him as guides five French trappers, who had
passed many years of their lives rambling from the Rocky IVIoun-
taius to the southern shores ol Lower California.

The Prince left his Shoshones at the fort to bring on the goods
at a fitting occasion,and,iii company with his new guests, retraced
his steps towards our settlement On the second day of their
journey they met with a strong wMr-party of the Crows, but as the
$ho6hones were then at peact* with all thf^ir neighbours, no fear
bad been entertained. The faithless Crows, however, unaware, as
well as the Prhioe, of the close vicinity of a Shoshone hunting-
party, resolved not to let escape an opportunity of obtaining a rich
booty without much danger. They allowed the white men to pur¬
sue their way, but iollow'^d them at a distance, and in the evening
surprised them in their encampment bo suddenly that they had not
eyon time to sei/e their arms.

The prisoners, with their horses and luggage, were conducted to
the spot whiWe their captors had halted, and a council was formed
Immediately* The Prince, addressing the chief, reproached him
bitter^'With his treachery; little did he know of tlie Crows, who
arw^Utrtahilj^ the greatest rascals among the mountains. The
and all the Indian tribes represent them as thieves never
ll»otcn to keep a promise nor to do an honourable act"

Koue but a stranger will ever trust them. They are as cowardly
as cruel. IN^urder and r<|^bery are the whole occupation of their
existene^) add woe to the traders or trappers whom they may meet

M0N8IEUB V^OLILT. 45

with (luring their excursions, if tJipy ore not at least one-tenth of
their own number. A proot of t|rir cowardice is that once Bo(^,
mvself, and a young Parisian, named Gabriel, having by chance
falUm upon a camp of thirteen Crows and three Arrapaboes, they
left us their tents, furs, and dried meats; the Arrapahoes alone
showing some fight, in which one of them was hilled. But to re¬
turn to our subject. The chief heard the Prince SeravaUe with a
contemptuous air, clearly showing that he know who the Prince
ivas, and that he entertained no good-will towards him. His
duplicity, how^ei er, and greediness, getting the better of his hatred,
he asked the prisoner-, wliat they would give to obtam their free¬
dom. T^pon their answer that they would give two rifles, two
horses, with one hundred dollars, he said that all which tho
prisoners po'^s >sse(l when taken, being already bis own, he expected
much more than that. He demanded that one of the Canadians
slioiild go to I'ort Hall, with five Crows, with an order from the
Prince to the araoimt of sixty blankets, twenty rifles, and ten kegs
of powder. In the mean time the prisoners were to be carried lAto
the comitry of the Crows, where the goods were to follow them as
soon as obtamed; upon the reception of which, the wjjiiite men
should be set at liberty. T'^nderstanding now the intention of their
enemies, and being certain that, once '‘in the strongholds of tho
Crows, they w onld never bi' allowed to return, the Prince rejected
the offer, w ishmg, however, to gain time, he made several others,
which, of course, were not agreed upon. When the chief saw that
he was not likely to obtain anything more than that which he had
already become mister ot, he threw away his mask of hypocrisy,
an I, resuming at oii'’e his real character, began to abuse his \ ic-
tims.

“The Palc-faces,” he said, “were base dogs, and too great
cowards to fight against the Crow They were less than women,
concealing themselves in the lodges of tlie Shoshones, and lending
them their rilles, so that having now plenty ot arms and ammunir
tion, that tribe had become strong, and feared by all. B’a* now
they would kill tfle Pale-faces, and they would see what colour was
the blood of cowards. When dead, they could not give any more
rifles or pow der to the Shoshones, who would then bury themselves
like prairie-dogs in their burrows, and never again dare to cross
the path of a Crow.”

The Prince replied to the chief with scorn. “ The Crows,” he
said, “ ought not to soeak so loud, lest they should be heard by the
Shosbon(' braves, and lies should never be uttered in open air.
What were the Crows before tho coming of the white men, on the
shores of the Buona Ventura ? They had no country of their own,
lor one part of it had been taken by the Black feet, and the other
by the Arr.ipahoes and the Shoshones'. Then the Crows Were like

461 TXtAVELa AND ADVJSNTUltLa 01

doves hunted by tbo hawks of the moimtains. They would lie con-
oesded fn deep fissure^t of the earh||iand never 'itir hut during night,
so nlt^ald were they of encountering a Shoshone. But the white
men assembled the Shoshones around their settlements, and taught
them to remain at peace with their neiglibours. Tliey had been so
for four years; the Crows had had time to build other wigwains.
'Why did they act like wolves, biting their beneiactofs instead of
showing to them tlieir gratitude?”

The Prince, though an old man, had muori mettle in liim, espe¬
cially nhen his blood was up. He had become a Siioshone in all
except ferocity; he heartily despised tlio rascally ('rows. As to
the chief, he tLrmly grasped the handle ot Ins tomahawk, so much
did he feel the bitter taunts ot his captive. Suddenly a rustling
was heard, then the sharp report of a ritii', and onf‘ of the Crows,
leaping high in the air, tell down a corpse

The chief hath spoken too loud,” said the Prince, “ J hear the
step of a Shoshone; the ('rows had better run anav to the moun¬
tains, or their flesh will fatten the dogs of our village ”

An expression of rage and deep hatred shot across the features
of the chief, but he stood motionless, as did all his men, frying to
catch the sounds, to ascertain in which direction they should fly
from the danger.

“Fear has turned the Crows into stones,” resumed the Prtnci*,

what has become of their light feet ? 1 see the Shoshones.”

“The dog of a Pale-lace will see tliojn no more,” replied tlie
savage, as he buried his tomahawk ‘u the skull ot (he unfortunate
nobleman, who was thus doomed to meet with an inglorious death
in a distant land.

The other prisoners, wlio were boimd, could of course offer no
resistance. The French savant and fwo of Ins guides were* but¬
chered in an instant, but before the remainder of the party could
be sacrificed, a well-directed volley was poureei upon the compact
body of the (pvovrs, who rnsheel immediately to the wooels for covew,
leaving behind them twenty dead and wounded, besides their cruel
Obief. Then fi'om the thickets behind appeared tliirty Shoshones,
who immediately gave ciiose, leaving only one of their men to free
the threp remaining trappers, and w atch over the body of their
murdered friend and legislator.

A sharp Hralleur fire trom their respective covers was carried on
between thp Shoshones and Crows for half an hour, in whiPh the
emirs lost ^n more scalps; and having at length reached a rugged
hilbMl of fcS*ier8 and bushes, they took fairly to their heels, without
even attanpting to answer th® volleys poured after them. The
victims were carried to the settli*meTit, and the very day they were
consigned to their grave, tlv* Shoshones started for the land of
the Croivs. f The results of the expedition 1 have mentioned alrcadv.

vxoj:,i:’r. 47

"With my father T found the three trajipersi two of whom were
preparing to start for Callforaia(Pjmt the third, a young Parisian,
Avho went by the name of Gabriel, preferred remaining with us, and
never loft me until a long time afterwards, when we parted upon
the borders of the Mississippi, when I was forcing my way towards
tlie Atlantic Ocean. lie and Roche, when I parted with them, had
directed their steps back to the Shoshones; they delighted too
much in a life of wild and perilous adventure to Itsave it so soon,
and the irishman vowed that if he ever returned within the jiale of
I'ivilization, it would be to Monterey, the only place where, in his
long wanderings, he had found a people congenial to his own
ideas.

When, in the mc(‘ting of a great council, I apprized the tribe of
tin' attack math* upon the boat-house by tlic Umbiquas, and of its'
results, there was a loud burst of satisfaetiou. J was made a war
chief on the spot; sind it was determined that a ]> irty should im¬
mediately jtroceed to chastist' the ITmbiquHS. JNIy father did not
allow me to join it, as then* was much to be dent* in settling the
a Hairs of the PiMncc, and p lying the debts he had contracted at
Fort Hall; consequently, I lt‘d a c-lcrlv’s li1» for two months, writing
accounts, &,c.—rather a dull occupation, for which I had not the
smalh'St relish. During this time, the expedition against the Um-
hiquas had l)oen still more successful than that against the ('rows,
and, in tact, that year was a glorious on' for the Shoshones, who
W’ill rcm('mber it a hmg while, as a period in wdiich leggings and
mocassins were literally sowm with human hair, and in which the
blanched and nuburied bones of their onemies, scattered on the
l>r.iirie, scared even the wohes from crossing the Buona Ventura.
Indeed, that year was so fhll of events, that my narration would
he too much swelled if I were to enumerate them all.

1 liad nf>t forgotten the cacheite at onr landing-place. Every¬
thing was transferred to the boat*houae, and the hot of summer
having already began to render the settlement unpleasant, we re-
inov('(l to the sea-shore, while ^e major part of the tribe went to
hunt in the rolling prairies of tno south.

The presents of the good people of Monterey proved to be a greit
acquisition to my father. There wore many books, which ho ap-^
propriuted to himself; being now too aged and infirm to bear the
fatigues of Indian life, he had become fond ot retirement and read¬
ing. As to Gabriel and Roche, w^e b(*eame insepaorable, and though,
in some points we wen* not on an equality, yet the habit of being
constantly together, and sharing the samA tent, united us like
brothers.

As my readers will eventually discover, many daring deeds did
we perform together, and many pleasant days did we pass, both in
the northern cities of Mexico and western prairies of Te&tMb hunt-«

fif) TUAViJM ASV ADVENTUJJE8 or

and lodges; and all their tribea having both male and

1^919)0 slaves, the Shoshone wife not broken down by hard labour,
as the sq[uaws ot the eastern tribes; to their husbands they are
faithM, and I really believe that any attempt upon their
^j^sstlty would prove unavailing. They ride as bravely as the
jSten, and are very expert with the bow and arrow. I onee saw a
beautiful little Shoshone girl, about ten years old, the daughter
o;^ a chief, when her horse w as at full speed, kill with her bow and
aiTow, in the course of a minute or two, nine out of a flock of wild
turkeys of which she was in chase.

t^ir dress is both tasteful and chaste. 11 is composed of a loose
shirt, with tight sleeves, made of sott and well-prepared doe-skin,
Idtnost always dyed blue or red; this shu’t is covered from the
-Whitt by the toga, which falls four or six inches below the knee, and
^ made either of swan-down, silk, or woollen stuff; they wear
of the same material as the shirt, and cover their pretty
little fret with beautifully worked mocassins: they liave also a
scarf, pf a fine rich torture, and allow their soft and long raven
hair "to fall luxuriantly over their shoulder, usually omaraonted
isyiteh flowery, but sometimes with jewels of great value; their ancles
^d wrists are also encircled by bracelets; and indeed, tasee one
of these yo^img and graceful creatures, with her eyes sparkling, and
her face animated with the exercise of the chase, often recalled to
the romd a nymph of Biana, as described by Ovid.*

Though women participate not in the deeper mysteries of religion,
spme of them are permitted lo consecrate themselv es to tlie dn inity,
and to make vows of chastity, as thy vestals of Paganism or the
ntlps of the Catholic convents. Bill there is no seclusion. They
^l^s as men, covered with-leathei from head to fool, a painting of
son on their breasts, 'fhese women are warriors but never go
put with the parties, ranaining always behind to protect the
ylllages. They also live alone, are dreaded, but not loved. The
lindii^ hate anything or anybody that usurps power, or oversteps
those bounds which appear to him as natural aud proper, or who
dope not fulfil what he considers as their iatended destiny.

The fine evenings of summer are devoted by the young Indian to
courtship. When he has made his choice, ho commuiucates it to
his parents, who takes the business into theur hands. Presents are
har^ried to the door of the fair one’s lodge; if they are not aceoptocl,
tijere is an end to the matter, and the swain must look somewhere
else; if they are taken in, other presents are returned as a token
of agreeaa^t. These generally consist of objects of women » work-

* The Comaachei women veiqr much lesemUo the common squaws, bemg
short and broad In dgure. Tlds arises from the Comanches the

and not pormitUot; thexxl afr and exeardse.

MOMStKtlH TlOLSYi

inanship, as garters, belts, mocassins, &c.; then follows n
meeting of the parent**, which terminates by a speech tlM»
girls father, who mentions his daughter as the “dove," w “Uly,^
or “whisper of the breeze," or any other pretty Indi^ luuaa
w^hich may appertain to her. She has been a good dau^t^, sha
will be a dutiful wife; her blood is that Of a warrior’s; she wlU
boar noble childron to her husband, and sing to them hiS greail
deeds, &c. &c. The marriage day arrives at last; a meal of roMs
and fruit is prepared; all are present except the bridegroom, whose
arms, saddles, and property, are placed behind the fair one. The
door of the lodge is open, its threshold lined with flowers; at sunset
the young man presents himself with great gravity of deportment.
A 8 soon as he has taken a seat near the girl, the guests begin
eating, but in silence; but soon a signal is given by the mothers,^
each guest rises, preparatory to retiring. At that moment, tbh
two lovers cross their bands, and the husband speaks for the first
time, interrogatively —“ Faithful to the lodge, faithful to the father
faithful to his children?” She answers softly:—Faithftd, ever
faithful, in joy and in sorrow, in life and in death”^“ Pwtir, pet^-r
asha^ saHier nu cohta, lebech nu tammJ' It is the last fdrmula—the
cereinon||is accompltshod. This may seem very simple and ridi*
culous: to mo it appeared almost sublime. Opinions depend upon
habits and education.

The husband remains a whole year with his father-in-law, to
whom belongs by right the produce of his hantiug, both skins and
flesh. The year expired, his bondage is over, and he may* if he
wishes it, retire witii his wife to his own father’s, mr constmCt a
lodge for his own use. The hunter brings his game to bii door»
except when a heavy animal; there ends his task; the wlfb sklna
and cuts it, she dries the skin and cures the meat. Yet if the hua*
band is a prime hunter, whose time is precious, the woman herselt^
or her female relations, go out and seek the game where it has been
killed. When a man dies, his widow wears mourning during two
or tour years; the same case happens With the widower, oal^
his duties arc not so strict as that of a woman, and it often happmis
that, after two years, he marries his sister-in-law, If there is any.
The Indians think it a natural thing ;«they say that a woman w^
have more care of her sister’s children than of those of a stranger.
Among the better classes of Indians, children are often aflSanceii
to each other, even at the age of a few months. These cngagemmits
arc sacred, and never.broken-

The Indians in general have very severe laws against mnrfieer^
and they are pretty much alike among the tribes; they are divided
into two distinct sections—^murder committed In the nation and out
of the nation.

When a man commits a murder upon his own people, b» imis

52 TEAVELS AND ADVJJNl’UnES 01' ^

away from his tribe, or delivtrs liimsolf to justic'o. Iff this latter
case, the nearest relation of tUo vi(*tim kills him openly in presence
of all the warriors. In the first case, he is not pursued, but his
nearest relation is answerable for the deed, and suflEers the
penalty if by a given time he has not jjroduced the assassin.
The death is instantaneous, from the blow of a tomahawk. Often
the chief will endeavour to make the parties smoke the pipe of
peace; if he suceeeds, all ends here; if not, a vietimmust be sacri¬
ficed. It is a. stern huv, which sometinii's brings ivith its execution
many great calamities. Vengeance lias often becomi* hereditary
from generation to generation: murders have succeeded murders,
till one of the two families has deserted the tribe.

It is, no doubt, owing to sueh eireurastanees that great families,
‘“W communities of savages, bearing the same ti’^pe and speaking the
same tongue, have bet*n subdivided into so many distinct tribes.
Thus it has been with the Shoshones, whose emigrant families have
formed the Comanches, the Apaches, and the Arrapahoes. The
Tonquewas have since sprung from the Comanches, the Lepans
and the Texas*^now extinct) from the Apaches, and the Navahoes
from the Arrapahoes. Among the TSTadow'essies or Dalicotahs, the
subdivision has been still greater, the same original tri® having
given birth to the Konsas, the Man dans, the Tetons, langtongs,
Sassitongs, Ollah-Gallahs, the Siones, the Wallah W'allahs, the
Caynses, the Black-feet, and lastly the Winnebagocs.

The Algonquin species, or family, produced twenty-one different
tribes: the Miemaes, Etclicinins, Abeiiakis, Sokokis, Pawtucket,
Pokanokets, Narragaiisets, P'^quods, 3Iohcgans, Lenileuapi's, Nan-
tiookes, Powatans, Shawmies, Miarais, Hliuois, (^hippewas, Otta-
wtas, Menomonies, Saes, Foxes, and the Kickapoos, wfiich after¬
wards subdivided again into more than a hundred nations.

But, to return to the laws of murder, ft often happens that the
nephew, or brother, of the murderer, will offer his life in (*xpiatioii.
Very often these self-sacrifices are accepted, principally among
the poorer families, but the devoted is not jmt to death; he only
loses his relationship and connexion with his former family;
becomes a kind of slave or bondsman for life in the lodges of the
relations of the murdered. *

Sometimes, too, the guilty man’s life is saved by a singular and
very ancient law; it, however, happens but rarely. If the mur¬
dered leaves a widow w ith children, this widow may claim the
criminal as her own, and he hccomi's her husband nominally; that
is to say, he mmit hunt and provide for tlie subsistence of the fiunily.

When the murderer belongs to a hostile Irilic, war is immediately

* Fomit'j'ly tliero wiis a confeidtrahb Iribo of Jn-Juius, by the naiuc of Texas,
who have all disuiipearcd, from ccnliiiujl ’'.arfare.

^ MONSIEUn VIOLET. fi3

df‘o]are(l ;^^on the contrary, ho belonj^s to a friendly nation, the
tribe will wait throe or four months till the chiefs of that nation
come to otfer excuses and compensation. When they do ttiis, they
brin" pjpsents, wliich they leave at the door of the council-lodge,
one side of which is occupied by the relations of the victims, #10
other by the chiefs and warriors of the tribe, and the centre by the
ambassadors. One of these opens the ceremony by pronouncing a
s [leech of peace, while another offers the pipe to the relations. If
they refuse it, and the great chief of the tribe entertains a parti¬
cular regard for the other nation, ho rises and offers, himself, to the
relations, the calumet of conciliation. If refused still, all tlie chil¬
dren and babes of the murdered one's family are called into the
lodge, and the pipe passed a third time in that part of the lodge.
Then if a child even Iw'o or three months old touches it, the Indians"
consider the act as a decision of the great Master of Life, the pipe
goes round, the presents are carried in, and put at the feet of the
plaintilFs. "When, on the contrary, the calumet passes untouclied,
the murderer’s life alone can satisfy the tribe.

Wlieii the chiefs of the tribe of the murderer leave their village
to come and offer excuses, they bring with them the claimed victim,
who is ■4lfcl armed. If he is held in high estimation, and has been
a good warrior and a good man, the chiefs of his tribe are accom-
panit'd by a pn'cat number of their own warriors, who paint their
faces before entering the coimcil-lodge; some in black, with green
spcits, some all green (the pipe of peace is alwaj’^s painted green).

The relations of the murdered man stand on one side of the
lodge, the warriors of the other tribe opposite to them. In the
centre is the cliief, wdio is attended by the hearer of the pipe of
peace tm one side of him, and the murderer on the other. THie
c#ief then makes a speech, and advances with the pipe-bemrer and
the murderer towards the relatives of the deceased; he entreats
them, each man separately, to smoke the pipe which is offered by
the pipt‘-bearer, and when refused, offered to the next of the relatives.

During this time the murderer, who is w'ell armed, stands by the
chief’s side, advancing slowly, with his arrow or his carbine
pointed, ready to fire at any one of the relations who may attempt
to take his life before the pipe has Iftien refused by the whole of
them. W’^hen such is the ease, if the chiefs want peace, and do not
care much for the murderer, they allow hun to be killed without
interference; if, on the contrary, they value him, and will not per¬
mit his death, they raise fhe war-whoop, tlicir warriors defend the
murderer’s life, and the war between the two tribes may be said to
have commenced.

Most usually, however, the pipe of peace is accepted, in pre¬
ference to proceeding to such extremities.

1 will now mention the arms and aceoutreraent of the Shoshone

54

' TKAVEM ANT) ADVEWTCftES or ^

waariors,” observing, at the same timoj that my rlR-rks refia*
equally to the Apaches, the Arrapahoos, and the Coinauclies, ex¬
cept that the groat skill of the Shoshones turns the balance in their
fitvour. A Shoshone is always on horseback, firmly sitting upon a
smllll and light saddle of his own manufacture, without any stir¬
rups, which, indeed, tliey prefer not to have, the only Indians
using them being chiefs and celebrated warriors, who lia ve them as
a mark of distinction, the more so that a saddle and stirrups are
generally trophies obtained in battle from a conquered enemy.

They have too good a taste to ornament their horses, as the
Mexicans, the Crows, or tho Eastern Indians do; they think that
the natural grace and beauty of the animal are such that anything
• gaudy would break its ha^mou 3 ^ Tho only mark of distinction
**they put upon their steeds (and the chiefs only can do so) is a ricli
feather or two, or three quills of the eagle, fixed to tho rosette of
Wie bridle, below the left ear; and as a Shonshone treats his horse
as a friend, always petting him, cleaning him, never forcing or
abusing him, the animal is always in excellent condition, and his
proud eyes and majestic bearing present to the beholder the
tfeau ideal of the graccfril and the beautiful. The elegant dress and
graceful form of the Shoshone cavalier, harmoiii/es admi^P^ly witli
the wild and liaughty appearance of the animal.

The Shoshone allows his well-combed locks to undulate with the
wind, only pressed to his head by a small metal coronet, to whicli
he fixes i'eathers or quills, similar to those put to his horse’s ro¬
sette. This coronet is made either of gold or silver, and those who
cannot afford to use these metals makf it with swan-dovMi or deer¬
skin, well prepared, and elegantly embroidered with ixireupine-
quills; his arms iu*e bare and his wrists encircled with bracelets
qf the same material as tiie coronet; his body, from the neck #)
the waist, is covered with a small, soft deer-skin shirt, fitting him
closely without a single wrinkle; from the waist to the kneo he
wears a many^olded toga, of black, brown, red, or white woollen
or sUk stuff, which he procures at Monterey or St, Francisco, from
the Valparaiso and China traders ; his leg, from the ankle to the
Mp, is covered by a pair of le^ings of deer-skin, dyed red or black
with some v^table acids#and sewed with human hair, which
hangs flowing, or in tresses, on the outward side; tiiese leggings
are fast^ied a little above the foot by other metal bracelets, while
the foot 1$ encased in an elegantly-finished mocjaasiii, often edged
wjtli small, beautiful, roimd crimson shells, no bigger than a pea,
and iound amqng the fossil remains of the country.

Hound his waist, and to sustain the toga, he wears a sash, gene¬
rally made by the squaws out of the slender filaments of the silk-
tg’ee, a species of the cotton-wood, which is aluays covered with
long threads, impalpable, tliuugh very strong. These are wove

MONSlF.tJll VlOIiSSt. bb

together, and richly dyed. I am sure that in Paris or in London,
these scarfs, which arc from twelve to fifteen feet long, .would fetch
a large sum among the ladies of the havt ion. I have often had one
of them shut up in my hand, so that it was scarcely to be perceived
that I had anything irudosed in my list.

Suspended to this scarf, they have the tnife on the left side and
the tomahawk on the right. The bow and quiver are suspended
across their shoulders by bands of swan-dowu three inches broad,
while their long lance, ri('hly carved, and with a bright copper or
iron point, is carried horizontally at the side of the horse. Those
who possess a carbine have it fixed on the left side by a ring and a
book, the butt nearly <‘lo.se to the sash, and tho muzzle protruding
a liUle before the knee.

The younger warriors, who do not possess the carbine, carry in"
its stead a small bundle of javelins (the jerrid of the Perslaiis),
with wliich they are very exxwirt, for I have often Seen them, at a
distaiujc of ten feel, bury one more than two feet di^ep in the flanks
of a bufi’aio. To comjdelo their oifensive weapons, they have the
lasso, a leather rope fifty feet long, and as thick as a woman’s little
finger, j^iging from the pommel of their saddles. This is a terrible
arm, aPniist which there is but little possibility of contending,
even if the adversary possess a rifle, for the casting of tjie lasso is
done w ith the rapidity of thought, and an attem]it to turn rotind to
tire w'onld indubitably seal his fatf% The only means to escape tho
fatal noose is, to raise the r<3ins of your horse to the top of your
head, and hold anything diagonally from your body, such as the
lance, the carbine, or anything except the knife, which you must
liold in your right hand, ready for use.

The chances then are: i^tlie lasso falls above your head, it must
slip, and then it is a lost throw, but if you are qui<!k enough to
pass your knife tiirough the noose, and cut it as it is dragged back,
then the advantage becomes yours, or, at least, is equally divided,
for then you may turn upon your enemy, whose bow, lance, ami
rifl(s for the better management of his lasso, have been left behind,
or too firmly tied about him to be disengaged and used in so short
a time. Ho can only oppose you with the kifkife and tomahawk,
and if you choose, you may employ ^'our own lasso; in that ease
the p<Jsition is reversed; still the conquest belongs to the most ac¬
tive of the t\v o.

It often haiipens that, after having cut the lasso and turned upon
his foe, an Indian, without diminishing the speed of his horse, will
pick up from the ground where he has dropped it, his rifle, or his
lance; then, of com'se, victory is in his hands. I escaped once from
being lassoed in that way. I was pursued by a Crow Indian; his
first throw failed, so did his second and his third; on the fourth, I
cut the rope, and wheeling round upon him, I gave chase, and shot

•'i<> TBAVELS AND ADVENTUKES OE

him tlirougli the body Avith ono of my pistols. The noose at oA'ory
cast formed such an exactTcircle, and fell with such precision, the
centre above my bead, and the circumference reaching from the
neck to the tail of my horse, that if 1 had not thrown away niy
rifle, lance, boAv, aJnl quivt'r, 1 should immediately have been
dragged to the ground. All the wosteru Indians and Mexicans are
admirably expert in handling this deadly weapon.

Before the arrival of the Prince Seravalle, the Shoshones had
bucklers, but they soon cast them aside as an incumbrance; the
skill which was wasted upon the proper management of this defen¬
sive armour being now applied to the improved u.so of the lance. 1
doubt much whether, in the tournaments of the days of chivalry,
^the gallant knights could showto their ladye-love greater skill than a
Bhoshonocan exhibit when tighthig against an Arrapahoe or a CroAv.*

But the most AAonde'rful feat of the Shoshone, and also of the
Comanche and Apache, is the facilit}’^ with which he will hang
himself alongside his horse, in a charge upon an ('ueiny, b(‘ing per¬
fectly invisible to him, and quite invulnerable, except through thi'
body of his horse. Yet in that difficult and dangerous position, he
will use any of his arms Avith precision and skill. The way in
which they keep their balance is very simple; they pass t*ij- inght
jurm, to tl^e very shoulder, through the folds of the lasso, which, as
I have said,, is suspended to the pommel or round the neck of the
horse; for theiy fe(>t they find a support in the numerous loops of
deer-.sldnhanging from the saddle; and thus suspended, the left arm
entirely fVoe to handle the hoAV, and the right one very nearly so,
to “draw the arrow, they watch their ei>portunity, and, unless pre¬
viously wounded, seldom miss their aim.

I have said that the Shoshones throw-away tlieir bucklers at tli<‘
instigation of the Prince Seravall(', mOio also taught them the Euro¬
pean cavalr}’’ tactic.s. They had sense enough to perceive the ad¬
vantage AA'hich they Avould gain from them, and they wi*re
immediately incorporated, as lar as possible, with their own.

The Shoshones now cliargc in squadrons with the lance, form
squares, wheel with wonderful precision, and execute many diffi¬
cult manceuvres; but as they combine our European tactics with
their own Indian mode of AA-^arfare, one of the most singular sights
is to witness the disappearance behind their horses, after tlie Indian
fashion, of a whole body of perhaps five hundred horse, when in full
charge. The effect is most .strange; at one moment, you see the
horses mounted by gallant fellows, rushing to the conflict; at a

* The Crows, our neighbours, who ore of the Daheotah race, are also excel¬
lent marksmen, most admirably dressed, and fond of show, but they cannot be
compared to the Shoshones; they have not the same skill, and, moreovear, they
, abuse and change their horses so often that the poor brutes are never accus¬
tomed to their masters.

MONSIErB VIOLET.

ri7

given signal, every man has disappeared, and the liorses, in perfect
lira', appear as if charging, without riders, and of their own accord,
upon tlin ranks of the enemy.

I have dwelt perhaps too long upon the manners and habits of
these people; 1 cannot help, how'tjver, giving my readers a proof of
the knowledge w'hieh the liigher classes among them really possess.

I have said that they are good astronomers, and T may add that
their intuitive knowiedge of geometry is remarkable. I once asked
a young chief wiiat he considered the height of a lofty pine. It w'^as
in the afternoon, about three o'clock. He walked to the end of the
siiadow throwm by the pine-tree, and fixed bis arrow in the ground,
measured the length of the arrow, and then the length of the sha¬
dow thrown by it; then measuring tlic shadow^ of the pipe, ho
deducted from it in the .same proportion as the difference betweefT
the length of the arroAV and the U-ngth of its shadow, and gave me
the result. He worked the Rule of Three without knowing it.

Hut the most remarkable instance ocemTed when we were about
to cross a wddc and rapid river, and required a rope to be thrown
across, as a stay to the men and horses. The question was, wdiat
was the length of the rope required; i. e, what was the width of the
ri^er? •An old chief stepped his horse forward, to solve the prob¬
lem, and ho did it as follows:—He wcftt do^vn to the side of the
ri\ or, and fixed upon a spot as a centre; thou he selected two trees,
on the right and left, on the other side, as near as his eye could
measure efiuidistant from w’hore he stood. Haling so done, he
b-acked his horse from the river, until he came to where his eye told
him that he had^obtained the point of an equilateral triangle:—

A F B

6H TRAVELS ANU ABYENTURES OF

Thus, in the diagram, he sc'leotod the two trees A and 13, walked
back to E, aud there fixed liis lance. 1-Te then foil back in the
direction E D, until he had, as nearly as he could tell, made the
distance from A E equal to that from E I), and fixed another lance.
The same was repeated to E C, when the last lance was fixed. He
then had a parallelogram; and as the distance from F to E was
exactly equal to the distance ft’om E to G, he liad but to measure
the space between the bank of the river and E, and deduct it from
E G, and he obtained the uddth of the river required.

I do not think that this calculation, which proved to be perfectly
correct, occupied the old chief more than three minutes; and it
roust be remembered tliat it was tlono in the face of the enemy; but
Jt resume my own hlstor}’.

CHAPTER X.

In narrating the unhappy death of the Prince, I have stated that
the Crows bore no good-will to the white men established among
the Shoshones. That feeling, however, was not confined to that
tribe; it was shared by all the others within two or three liumireil
miles from the Buona Veatura river, and it w,gs not sur])rising.
Sinee our arrival, the tribe had acquired a certain degree of tactics
and unity of ac^on, which was sufficient in itself to bear d(nvn all
their enemies, independent of the immense power they had obtained
firom their quantity of fire-arms and almost inexhaustible ammuni¬
tion. All the other nations were jealous of tlieir &trengt)i and re¬
sources, and this jealousy being now worked up to its climax, they
determined to unite and strike a great blow, not only to destroy the
ascendancy which the Shoshones had attained, Imi also to possess
themselves of the immense wcaJth which they foolishly supposed
the Europeans Imd brought with them to tlie settlement.

For a long time previous to the Crow and Umbiqua expedition,
which I fiave detailed, messengers had been passing between tribe
and tribe, and, strange to say, they Ijad buried all their private ani¬
mosities to form a league against the common enemy, as they
considered the Shoshones. It v^^^s, no doubt, owing to this
arrangement that the Crows and the Cmbiquas showed themselves
so hardy; but the prompt and successful retaliation of the Sho¬
shones cooled a little the war spirit W'hich was fomenting around us.
However, the ArrapaSioes having consented to join the league, the
united confederates at once opened the campaign, and broke upon
our country in m^ery direction.

We were taken by surprise; for the first three weeks th(^y carried
everything before them, for the majority of our warriors were still
hunting. But liaving been apprised of the danger, they returned

MONSTEtJB VIOEET.

69

in haste, and the Jispect of atfairs soon changed. The lost ground
was regained inch by inch. The Arrapahoes having suflFerpd a
great deal, retired from the league; and having now nothing to fear
fi’om the south, we turned against our assailants on our northern
boundaries. ;>fotwithstanding the desertion of the Arrapahoes, the
united tribes were still three times our number, but they w anted
union and did not act in conct'rt. They mustered about fifteen
thousand w arriors from the TJmbiquas, Callapoos, Cayuses, Nez-
])er(*es, Bonnaxos, Flat-heads, and some of the Crows, who had not
yet gained prudence from their last “ brushing.” The superiority
of our arms, our tactics, discipline, and art of intrenchment, toge¬
ther with the good service of two clumsy old Spanish four-
pounders, enabled us not only in a short time to destroy the*^
league, but also to crush and annihilate for ever some of our tredP-
elierous neighbours. As it would be tedious to a Btrj^uiger to follow
the movements of the whole campaign, I will merely mention that
part of it in wiiich 1 assisted.*

* The s.VFte”'' of prairie warfare Ss so different from ours, that tlie campaign
1 liavc* just related will not he eassily understood by those acquainted otdy with
European military tactics.

When a European army starts upon an exp^hlon, it is always accompanied
by waggons, carrying stores of provisions and ammunition of aJI kinds. There
is a cominiasariat appointed for the purpose of feeding the ^ops. Among the
Indians there is no sueli tiling, and except a few pieces of dfUd venison, a pound
weight of powder, and a corresponding quantity of lead, if he has a rifle, but if
not, with ills lance, bow, arrows, and tomahawk, the warrior enters the war¬
path. In the closer country, for water and fuel, he trusts to the streams and to
tile trees of the forests or mountains; when In the prairie, to the mud-holes and
chasms lor water, and to the buffalo-dung for his fire. Ilis rifle and arrows
will always give him enough of food.

Jlut these supplies would not, of course, b« sufllcient fbr a great nntrdier of
men; ten thous.'iiid, for example. A water-hole would be drained by the first two
or three liundred men that might arrive, and the remainder would be obliged to
go without any. Then, un1c.s6 perchance they should fall upon a large herd of
buffaloes, tiiey would never be able to find the means of sustaining life. A
bufiiilo, or three or four deer, can be killed every day, by hunters out of tJie track
of an expedition ; tiiis supply would suffice for a small war-party, but it would
never do for an army.

Except in the buffalo ranges, where the Comanches, thq Apaches, and tiie
southern Shoshones will often go by bands of tliousands, the generality of the
war-parties enter the path in a kind of eschelonnge ; that is to say, supposing
the Shoshones to send two thousand men ag^nst the Orows, they would be
divided into fifteen or twenty hands, each commanded fey an inferior chief. The
first jiarty will start for recomioitering. The next day the second band, ac-
ccrniianied by the great chiefs, will follow, but in another track; and so on tvith
a third, till three hundred or three hundred and fifty are united together. Tlien
they will begin tlidr operations, new parties coming to take the place of those
who have suffered, till thty tlieinsclves retire to make room for others. Every
new comer brings a supply of provisions, the produce of their chase in tiouung.

tfO TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES

Wo wore divided into four war-parties: one which acted against
the Bonnaxes and the Plat-heads, in the north-east; the second,
against the Cayusos and Nez-perces, at the forks of the Buona
Ventura and Calumet rivers; the third remainctl near the settle¬
ment, to protect it from surprise; while the fourth, a vtiry small
one, under my father’s eomnaand, and to Mdiieh I was attached, r*'-
mainod in or about the, boat-house, at the fishing station. Indepen¬
dent of these four pai'ties, well-armed bands wore despatched iutt>
the TJnibiqua eountrj% both by land and .sea.

In the beginning, our warfare (»n tJio short's of th(' Pacific
amounted merely to skirmishes, but by-a.nd-bye, tla* ralla[*i»)r,
having joined the TJmbiqua.^ with a numerous party, the gaitu' as-
»sumed more interest. We not only lost our advantages m tlie
"tJmbiqua country, but were obliged, little by little, to retire to th *
Post; this, however, proved to bo our salvation, Wt; wen' but onf
hundred and six men, whilst our adversaries mustereti four hun¬
dred and eighty, and yet fidl oue-fiflli of thc'lr number w'-n
destroyed in one afternoon, during a desperate attack wbieli lie .
made upon the Post, which had been put into au c.dmirablc stale
of uefence.

The roof had been (*overed with shotds of co]>p(‘r, and holes had.
been opened in various ])art.s of tlu' wall for the use of the eaiitioii.
of our possession of whuih the enemy was ignorant. The first as¬
sault was gallaij|ly conducted, and every one of the loop-holes ^v,l^
choked with thmr ball.s and arrows. On ttu'y ads.inced iu n elese
and thick body, with ladders and lorelu's. yelliiu. lis.'' a inilli'ci of
demons. When at the distance of .sixty yar<K, ac poured upi>u
them the contents of our two guns; tliey were li^a ily leodi d nidi
grape-shot, and jiroduec'd a most terrible effeei. '’ho ('tu'iuy did
not retreat; raising their w-ar-wliooi*, on they ru', with a tie-
termination truly heroical.

The guns were again lin'd, and al.s<» Die whole ol our mu.ski'try,
after which a party of forty of our men juade a sortie. This la.sl
charge was sudden and irresistible; the enemy tJ('<l in every dirc<‘-
tion, leaving behind their dead and wounded, i’hat evening we
received a reinforcement of thirty-eight men from th<' settlement,
W'ith a large supply of buffalo meat and twenty fine young fat colts.
This w’as a great comfort to us, as, ibr several days, we had been
obliged to live upon our dried fi.sh.

During seven Gays we saw^ nothing of the enemy; but our scoiit.s
scoured in every direction, and our long-boat surprised, in a bay

so that those who are fighting need be in no fear of wanting tlie necessaries of
life. By this the reader will see that of a band of two thousand warriors, only
four or five hundred are effectually fighting, unless the number of warriors
agreed upon by the chiefs prove too email, when new reinforcements are sent
forward.

MONBTEtfK VIOLtiT. bl

opposite George Point, thirty-six large boats, in which the Calla-
poos had come from their territory. The boats were destroyed,
and their keepers scalped. As the heat was very intense, wo re¬
solved not to confine ourselves any more within the walls df the
Post; we formtjd'a spacious camp, to the east of the block-house,
MitJi breastworks of uncommon strength. This plan jirobably
sai ed us from some contagious disease; indeed, the bad smell of the
Iried fish, and the rart^fied air in the building, had already begun
lo alh'ct many of our men, especially the wotmded.

A» th<- end of a week our enemy re-appeared, silent and doter-
s 'd. Tlioy bad returned for revenge or for death; the struggle
fo b(* a fearful one. They encam]n*d in the little open prairie
<r other .side of the river, and mustered about six hundred men.
M‘ hrst war-party had overthrown and dispersed the Bonnaxes;
Ilf V were on tbeir way to join the Flat-heads; and the former
not being able to effect the intended junction, threw itself
-I' lg the Cuyu'.cs and Nez-perces. These three combined nations,
'!i( T' a (U'sultory warfare, gave way before the second war-party;
I the IJonnaxes, being now rendereil desperate by their losses,
a) the certainty tliat they would be exterminated if the Shoshones
■ 'M (“finipier, joined the Callaj)oos and Umbiquas, to make one
■ >' ;u1;u-lv Tipou our little garrison.

Nothing could lia VO saved us, had the Flat-heads holdout any
C 1 -; but tin- Black-feet, their in'cconeileablc enemies, seizing
pportunitv. had entt red their territory. The^ sued to us for
, arid then dctactiin(‘uts from both war-parties hastened to
h.'hp Of ihLs nere apprized by our runuors; and having
I c '>j''usly conci rted measures with my father, I started alone to
?))< 1 these d<'tacbrnont.s in the passes of the Mineral Mountains.
I'hi ]\‘tur:iing vMsrriors were seven hundred strong, and had not
lost niei'c tbau ttiirleen men in their two expeditions; they divided
into i ir(‘e ])ain3s, and succeeded, without discovery, in surrounding
the jirairie in v\hicb the enemy were eneaiuped; an Indian was then
SCO I lo cross the river, a few miles to the east, and carry a mes-
' -ige to my fatin'!-.

'fhe moon i-ose at one in the morning. It was arranged-that,
.wo hours before its rising, the garrison of the block-house, which
had .dready ‘•uff(;red a gri'at deal, during four days of a close siege,
v\ ero to let olf the firc-vvorks that I had received from the Mexi¬
cans at Monte!-ey, and to watch well the shore on their side of the
river, for vv(' were to fal! upfin the enemy during their surprise,
i»c('asioii('d by .such an imu.sual di.^play. All happened as was in¬
tended. At the fir.st rocket, the Bonnaxes, Call.ipoos, and Umbi-
qnas were on the alert; but astonishment and admiration very
soon succeeded their fear of surprise, whifili they knew could not
he attempted from their (uiponents in front. The bombs burst, the

Ci TiLWlatiS ANA) ADViiSTUllES OF

wheels threw their large oircles of coloured sparks, aaid the savages
gazed in silent admiration. But their astonishment was followed
by fear of siipernatural agency; confusion spread among them,
and their siUmce was at last broken by hundreds of loud voices!
The moment had now come—the two Sitoshtme war-parties rushed
upon their terrified vi<‘timsv and an hour afterwards, when the
moon rose and shone above the prairie, its mild Iwams were cast
upon four linndrcd corpses. The whole of the Bonuax and IJm-
biqua party wwe entirely destroyed. The Callapoos suffered but
little, having dispersed and run towards tlio sea-shore at the be¬
ginning of the affray.

Thus ended the great league against the Shoshones, which tra-
• dition w'ill speak of in ages yet to come. But those .stirring evonl.s

sre followed by a sev(n*e los.s to me. My lather, ag(id as ho vva.s,
had shown a great deal of afti\ity during the assault, and he
had imdei’gone much privation and fatigue: his liigh spirit sus¬
tained him to the very last of the struggle; but w^hen all was over,
and the reports of the rides no longer wdiizzed to his oars, his
strength gave way, and, ten days after the last conflict, he died of
old aj^», fatigue and grief. On the borders of the Pacific Ocean, a
few miles inland, I have raised his grave. The wild IJow'ers that
grow' upon it are fed by the clear watex’s of the Nu-clije-sha-wako,
xmd tlie whole tribe of the Shoshoiie.s Avill long watch over the
tomb of the Pale-face from a distant laud, who was once their in-
vstructor and their friend.

As for my two friends, Gabriel and lloche, they had been both
seriously wounded, and it w as a long lioiC before they rccovi'red.

We passed the remainder of the summer in building casth's in
the air for the future, and at last a;.,Te(>d to go to Monterey to ])ass
the winter. Fate, however, ord( red otherwise, and a suceevssion
of adventures, the current of wixich I could not oppose, forceil me
through many wild .scenes and countries, which 1 have yet to
describe.

CHAPTER XL

At the beginning of the fqll, a few montlis after my father’s death,
I and my two comrades, Gabriel and Roche, were hunting in the
rollk^ prairies of the soutli, on the eastern shores of the Buona
Ventura. One evening w^e w^ere in high spirits, having had good
sport. My two frituids had entered upon a theme which they could
never exhaust; one pleasantly narrating the wonders and sights of
Paris, the other describing, with his true native eloquence, the
beauties of his country, and repeiiting the old Irish local legends,
which apixoarod to me quaint and highly poetical.

Of a sudden we were surroimded by a party ol‘ sii^ty Arrapa-

<>3

lioes; of course, resistance or flight was nseless. Our captors,
however, treated us with honour, contenting themselves with
watching us closely iind preventing our escape. They knew who
wo wore, and, though my horse, saddle, and rifle were in them¬
selves a booty for any chief, nothing was taken from us. 1
addressed the chief, whom I knew:—

“ What luive J done to the Morning Star of the Arrapahoes, that
T should l>e taken and watched like a sheep of the Watchinan-
goes.^”

The chief smiled and put his hand upon my shoulders. “ The
Arrapahoes,” said he, “ love the young Owato Wanisha and his
]»ak'-faced hrothers, for they are great warriors, and can beat theu’
enemies wilh beautiful blue fires from the heavens. The Arrapa-
lines know' all; they arc a wise people. They will take Owato
Wanisha to their own tribe,.that he may show his skill to them,
and make them -warriors. He shall be fed -with^the fattest and
sweetest dogs, lie -will become a great warrior among the Arra-
pahoe.s. So wish our prophets. 1 obey the will of the prophets
and of the nation.'’

“Hut,” answered I, “my Manitou will not hear mo if I am a
slave. The Pale-fu(!o Manitou has ears only for free warriors. He
will not lend me his fires unless space and time be my own.”

The chief iiiterruptod me:—“ Owato Wanisha is not a slave, nor
can lie bo one. He is with his good friends, who w’ill w'atch over
him, light liis fire, spread their finest blankets in bis tent, and fiU
it with the liest game of the prairie- His friends love the young
chi(d, but he must not escape from them, else, the evif spirit would
make the young Arrapahoes drunk as a beastly Crow, and excite
them in their folly to kill the Pale-faces.”

As notliing could he attempted for the present, we submitted to
our fate, and were condnetod by a long and dreary journey to the
eastern shores of the Rio Colorado of the West, until at last we
arrived at one of the numerous and beautifhl villages of the Arra-
jialioes. There wc passed the winter in a kind of honom*ablo cap¬
tivity. \n attempt to escape would have boon the signal of our
death, or, at least, of a harsh captivity. We were surrounded by
vast sandy deserts, inhabited by the Clubs (Piuses), a cruel race of
jieople, some of them cannibals. Indeed, I may as well here ob¬
serve, that most of the tribes inhabiting the Colorado are mcn-
eaters, ovim including the Arrapahoes, on certain occasions. Once
w'e fell in with a deserted camp of Clubmen, and there we found the
remains of about twenty bodies, the bones of which had been picked
with apparently as much relish as the wings of a pheasant would
have been by a European epicure. This Avinter passed gloomily
enough, and no wonder. Except a few beautiful groves, found here
^d there, like tho oases in the sands of the Sahara, the -whole

04 TllAVBIitS AND ADVENTUBUS Of

country is horribly broken and barren. Forty miles above the
Gulf of California, the Colorado ceases to be navigable, and pre¬
sents from its sources, for seven hundred miles, nothing but an un¬
interrupted series of noisy and tremendous cataracts, bordered on
each side by a chain of perpendicular rocks, five or six hundred
feet high, whik' the country all around seems to have been shaken
to its very centre by violent volcanic eruptions.

Winter at length passed away, and with the first weeks <jf spring
were renovated our hopes of cst^ape. The Arrapahoos, r*‘lenting in
their vigilance, wont so far as to offer us to accompany them in an
expedition eastward. To this, of course, we agreed, and entered
very willingly upon the beautiful prairies of North Sonora. For¬
tune favoured us: one day the Arrapahoes, having followed a ti’ain
*®of Apaches and Mexicjuis, with an intent to surprise and destroy
them, fell themselves into a snare, in which they were routed and
many perished. *

We made no scruple of deserting our late masters, and, spurring
our gaUaut steeds, we soon found that our unconscious liberators
were a party of ofReers bound from Monterey to Santa Fe, escorted
by two-and-twenty Apaches and some twelve or liftt'cn families of
Ciboleros. f knew' the officers, and was very glad to have iiitelli-
gence from California- Isabella was as bright as e^'or, but not
quite so light-hearted. Padre Marini, the missionary, bad em¬
barked for Peru, and the w'hole city of Monterey was still laugh¬
ing, dancing, singing, and love-making, just as J had left them.

The officijrs easily persuaded mo to accompcUiy them to Santa
Fe, from wdience i could readily return to Monterey with the next
caravan.

A word concerning the Ciboleros may not be uninteresting.
Every year large parties of Mexicans, some with nmles, others witli
ox-carts, drive out into these prairies to procure for their families
a season's supply of buffalo beef. They hunt chiefly on horseback,
with how and arrow or lance, and sometimes the fusil, wherL'by
they soon load their carts and mules. They find no difficulty in
cui’ing their meat even in midsummer, by slicing it thin, and
spreading or suspending it in the sun; oi*, if in haste, it is slightly
barbacued. During the curing operation, they often follow thij
Indian practice of beating the slices of meat with their feet, which
they say contributes to its preservation.

Here the extraordinary purity of the atmosphei'c uf these regions
is remarkably exemplified. A line is stn^tched from corner
to corner along the sid(‘ of the w’agy;on body, and strung with
slices of beef, which remain from dny to day, till they are siifficiently
cured to be packed up. Tins is done ivithout salt, and yet the meat
rar(dy putrefies.

The optic deception of ilic rarefied and lriinsp.irent atmo-^phore

MONSIEUn Vior-ET. 6*5

of those elevated plains is truly remarkable. One almost

fancy one’s self looking through a spy-glass; for objects appear at
scarce one-fourth of their real distance—frequently much magni¬
fied, and more especially much elevated. I have often seen flocks
of antelopes mistaken for droves of elks or wild horses, and when
at a groat distance, even for horsemen, whereby frequent alarms
ar(i occasioned. A herd of buffaloes upon a distant plain often ap- •
pear so elevated in height, that they would bo mistaken by the
inexperienced for a largo grove of trees.

But the most curious, and at the same time the most tormenting
phenonifTion occasioned by optical deception, is the mirage^ or, as it
is commonly called by the Mexican travellers, “ the lying witters.”
Even the experienced prairie hunter is often deceived by these upon
tile arid plains, where tlie pool of water is in such request. The
tiiirsty wayfarer, after jogging for hours under ^burning sky, at
length espies a pond—^yes, it must be water—it looks too natural
for hun to be mistaken. He quickens his pace, enjoying in antici¬
pation the pleasures of a refreshing draught; but as he approaches
it recedes or entirely disappears; and standing upon its apparent
site, he is ready to doubt his own vision, when he finds but a
parched sand under his feet. It is not until he has been thus a
dozen times deceived, that he is willing to relinquish the pursuit,
and then, perhaps, when he really does see a pond, he will pass it
uni xaminod, from fear of another disappointment.

The philosophy of these false ponds I have never seen satisfac¬
torily explained. They have usually been attrijtmted to refraction^
by which a section of the bordering sky is thrown below the
horizon; but I am convinced that they are the effect of reflection.
It seems that a gas (emanating probably from the heated earth and
its A'egeiable matter) floats upon the elevated flats, and is of suffi¬
cient density, when viewed obliquely, to reflect the objects beyond
it; thus the opposing sky Ijeing reflected in a pond of gas, gives the
appearance of water.

As a proof that it is the effect of reflection, I have often observed
the distant knolls and trees which W'ere situated near the horizon
bejmnd the mirage, distinctly inverted in the “pond." Now, were
the mirage the result of refraction, these w'ould appear on it erect,
only cast below the surface. Many are the singular atmospherio
phenomena observable upon the plains, and they would afford a
field of interestmg researches for the curious natural philosopher.

We had a pleasant jouraey, although sometimes pressed pretty
hard by hunger. However, Gabriel, ^ochc, and I were too liappy
to complain. We had just escaped from a bitter and long slavery,
beside which, we were heartily tired of the lean and tough dc^s of
the Arrapahoes, which are the only food of that tribe during the
winter. The Apaches, who had heard of our exploits, showed us

66 TBAVULS AND ADVENt*ttliEg Of

great respect; but what still more capiivati^d their good gi'aces,
was the Th’ishmaa’s skill in playing the fiddle. It |p happened that

l^exioan officer having, during the last fall, bo^ recalled from
litohterey to Santa Fe, had left his violin. It was a very fine in¬
strument, an old Italian piece of workmansliip, and worth, I am
owvinced, a great deal of money.

At the request of the owner, one of the present officers had taken
charge of the violin and packed it np, tocher with his trunks, in
one of the Cibolero’s waggons. "We Soon beoamo aware of the cir-
cnmstance, and when we csould not gt*t anything to eat, music
became our consolation. Tired as we were, we would all of us, “ at
least^the Pale-faces,” dance menily for hours together, after we
ha4 halted, tiU poor Eoehe, exhausted, could no longer move his
fingers.

We were at l^t relieved of our obligatory fast, and enabled to
look with contOTpt upon the humble prickly pears, which for many
a long day had been onr daily food. • Daily now we came across
herds of lat buffaloes, and great was our sport in pursuing the huge
lord of the prairies. One of them, by-thc-bye, gored my horse to
death, and would likely have put an end to my adventures, had it
not been for the certain aim of Qabriel. I had foolishly substituted
my bow and arrows for the rifle, that I might show my skill to my
companions. My vanity cost me dear, for though the bull was a
fine one, and had seven arrows driven through Ins neck, Idost one
of the best horses of the west, and my right leg was considerably hurt.

Having been informed that there was a large city or common-
wealtli of prairie dogs directly in onr rout^, I started on a-head with
my two companions, to visit these republicans. Wo had a double
object in view: first, a desire to examine one of the republics about
which prairie travellers halie said so much; and, secondly, to ob-
taM sotnethi% to eat, as the flesh of these animals was said to be
ej^ellent

Our rOad fOr six or seven miles wound up the sides Of a gently-
ascending mountain. On arriving at tlm summit we found a beau-
tifql table-land spread out, reaching for miles in every direction
befbre us. The soil appeared to be uncommonly rich, and was
covered with a luxurious growth of musqueet-trees. The grass was
<Sf the curly musquito species, the sweetest and most nutritious of
all the diffm'ept kinds of that grass, and the dogs never locate their
towns or citi^ except where it grows in abundance, as it is their
only food. *

We had proceeded but a i^ort distance after reaching this beau¬
tiful prairie, befoS*e We oamO upon the outskirts of the common-
WOaltlu A few Bettered dogs were seen scampering in, and, by
ibeir short iind sharp yelps, giving a general alarm to the whole
community.

StONSIEim VIOLET. 67

The first cry of danger from the outskirts was soon taken up in
the c{>ntro of the cit}’, and now nothing was to be seen in any direc¬
tion but a dashHig and suampesring of the mercurial and excitable
citizens of the place, each to his lodge or burrow. Far as the eye
could reach the city was spread, and in every direction the scene
w'as the same. Wt! rode leisurely along until we had reached the
more thickly settled portion of the city, when we halted, and after
taking the bridles from oui* horses to allow them to graze, we pre¬
pared for a regular attack upon its inhabitants.

The burrows were not more than fifteen yai’ds apart, with well-
trodden paths leading in different directions, and I even thought I
could discover something like regularity in the laying out of the
streets. We sat down upon a bank under the shade of a musquoet
tree, and leisurely surveyed tlie scone before us. Our approach had
driven every one in our immediate vicinity to his home, but some
Imndrcd yariis off, the small mound of earth in fr«ttt of a burrow,
was each occupied by a dbg sitting straight up on his hinder legs,
and coolly looking about him to ascertain the cause of the recent
commotion. Every now and then some citizen, more venturous
than his neighbour, would leave liis lodge on a flying visit to a com¬
panion, apparently to exchange a few woi’ds, and then scamper
back as fast as his legs would carry him.

Ey-and-bye, as wo kepi perfectly still, some of our nearer neigh¬
bours wore seen cautiou^ poking thoir heads outr of their holes
and looking cunningly, ami at the same time inquisitively, about
them. After some time, a dog would emerge from the entrance of
his domicile, squat upon his looking-out plaet*, shalce his head, and
commence yelping.

For throe hours we remained watching the movements of these
animals, and occasionally picking one of them off with our rifles.
No less than nine were obtained by the party. One circumstance
I will mention as singular in the extreme, and which shoivs the
social relationship which exists among those auinmls, as well as
the regard they have one for another.

One of them had XMsrched himself directly upon the pile of earth
in front of his hole, sitting up, and offering a fair mark, while ,a
companion’s head, too timid, perhaps, to expose himself farther,
was syen jjoking out of the entrance. A well-direcfcd shot carried
away the entire top of the head of the first dog, auffWocked him
some two or three feet from his post, perfjeqtiy deadi. WliUe re-
lomling, the other daringly came out, seized his companion by ©he
of his legs, and before we could arrive at the hole, had drawn him
completely out of reach, although wearied to twist him out with a
ramrod:

There was a feeling in this act—a something human—which
raised the animals in my estimation; and never after did I

68 TnAVELS AND ADVENTUHES OF

attempt to kill one of thorn, except, ■when driTon by extFv^ftie
hunger.

The prairie dog is about the size of a rabbit, fifeavier perhaps,
more compact, and with much shorter legs. In appearance, it re¬
sembles the ground hog of the north, although a trifle smaller than
that animal. In their habits, the prairie dogs are social, never live
alone like other iinimals, but are always found in villages or large
settlements. They are a wild, frolicsome set of follows, when un-
distUfbed; restless, and ever on the move. They seem to take
especial delight in chattering away the time, and visiting about,
from hole to hole, to gossip and talk over one another’s affairs; at
least, so their actions would indicate. Old hunters say that when
they find a good location for a village, and no water is handy, they
dig a well to supply the wants of the community.

On several occasions, I have crept up clo.se to one of their vil¬
lages, without being observed, that X might watch their movement.s.
Directly in the centre of one of them, I particularly noticed a very
large dog, sitting in front of his door or entrance to his burrow,
and by his own actions and those of liis neighbours, it really looked
as though he was the president, mayor, or chief; at all event-’, he
was the “ big dog" of the place.

For at least an liour, I watched the movements of this little com¬
munity; during that time, the large dog I have mentioned received
at least a dozen visits from his fellow-dpgs, "who would sj^op and
chat with him a few moments, and then run off to their domiciles.
All this while he never left bis post for a single minute, and I
thought I could discover a gravity in his d* portment, not discernible
in those by whom he was addressed. Frtr be it from me to say that
the visits he received were upon business, or having anything to do
with the local government of the village; but it certainly appeared
ns if such was the case. If any animal is endowed with reasoning
powers, or has any syst^ of laws regulating the body politic, it is
the prairie dog.

In different parts of the village the members of it "were seen
gambolling, frisking, and visiting about, occasionally turning heels
over head into their holes, and appearing to have all sorts of fun
among themselves. Owls of a singular species were also seen
among them; they did not appear to join in their sports in any
way; but still seemed to be on good terms, and as they -were con¬
stantly entering and coming out of the same holes, they might be
considered as members of the same family, or, at least, guests.
Rattlesnakes, too, dwell among them; but the idea generally
received among the Mexicans, that they live upon terms of com¬
panionship with the dogs, is quite ridiculous, and without any
foundation.

The snakes I look upon as loa fen, not easily shaken off by tb©

MONaiJ!:UH TIOIiiiT.

69

regular inhabitants, and they make use of the dwellings of the dogs
as more comfortable quarters than they could find elsewhere. \\'^e
killed- one a short distance from a burrow, which had made a
meal of a little pup; although I do not think they can master full-
grown dogs.

This town, w'hich we visited, was several miles in length, and at
least a mile in width. Around and in the vicinity, were smaller vil¬
lages, suburbs to the iowu. We kindled a fire, and cooked three of
the animals we had shot; the meat was exceedingly sweet, tender
and juicy, resembling that of the squirrel, only that there was more
fat upon it.

CHAPTER XI1.

Among these Apaches, our companions, were two Comanches who,
fifteen years before, had witnessed the death of the celebrated
Overton. As this wretch, for a short time, was employed as an
English agent by the Fur Company, his wild and romantic end will
probably interest the many readers who have known him; at all
events, the narrative will serve as a specimen of the lawless career
of many who resort to the western wilderness.

Some forty-four yeai’s ago, a Spanish trader had settled among
a tribe of the Tonquewas,* at the foot of the Green Mountains. He
had taken an Indian squaw, and was living there very comfortably,
paying no taxes, but occasionally levying some, under the shape of
black mail, upon the settlements of the province of Santa Fe. In
one excursion, however, he was taken and hung, an event soon for¬
gotten both by Spaniards and Tonquewas. He had left behind him,
besides a child and a squaw, property to a respectable amount:
the tribe took Ijis wealth for their own use, but cast away the
widow and her offspring. She fell by chance into the hands of a
jolly though solitary Canadian trapper, who not having the means
of selecting his spouse, took the squaw for better and for worse.

In the meantime the young lialf-breed grew to manhood, and
early displayed a wonderful capacity for languages. The squaw
died, and the trapper, now thinking of the happy days he had
passed among the civiUzed people of the East, resolved to return
thither, and took with him the young half-breed, to whom by long
habit he had become attached. They both came to St. iLouis, where
the half-breed soon learned enough of English to make himself un¬
derstood, and one day, having gone with his " father-in-law" to
pay a visit to the Osages, he murdered him on the way, took his
hor.se, fusil, and sundries, and set out for himself.

For a long time he was unsuspected, and Indeed, if he had been.

*• The Tonquewas tribe sprung fV’om the Comanches man; years ago.

70 TKAVXLS ASr ADVENTtJElES OV

he eaiPed very little about it. Ho T^ ont ft-om iribo to tribe, living
an indolent life, which ftxiiled his taste perieetlyj and as he was
very necessary to the Jndiaiis as an interpreter during their bar¬
tering transactions with the Wiites, he was allowed to do just as
he pleased. He was, however, fond oi‘ shifting from tribe to tribe,
and the traders seeing Jiim now xvith the Pawnies or the Coinanchcs,
now with the Crowds, or the Tonquewas, gave him the surname of

Turn-over^'' which name, making a summerset, became Over-turn^
and by corruption, Overton.

By this time everybody had discovered tliat Overton was a groat
scoundrel, but as he was useful, the English company from ("anada
employed him, paying him very high w'sigcs. But his employers
having discovered that he xvas almost always tipsy, ami not at all
backward in appropriating to himself that to which he had no
right, dismissed him from tlwir service, and Overton retui-iied to
his former life. By-and-hye, some Yankees made him proposals,
which he accepted: what was the nature of them no one can exactly
say, but evm-ybody may well fancy, knowing that notliing is <‘on-
sidci*ed more praisow'^orthy than cheating the Indians in their tran¬
sactions with them, through the agency of some rascally inleriu-etcr,
who, of course, receives his tantum quantum bf the protits of his
treachery. For some time the employers and employed agi’einl
amazingly well, and as nothuxg is cheaper than military titles in
the TTnitetl States, the lialf-broed became Colonel Overton, with
boots and spurs, a laced coat, and a long sword.

Cunning as werethe Yaqjtees, Overton\ as still more so; cheating
them as he had eheatod the Indians. The holy alliance was broken
up; he then retired to the momttaUis, protected by the Mexicjan
government, and commenced a syst'un of general depredation, which
for some time proved successful. His most ordinary method was
to preside over a barter bet wdxt the savages aaxd the,traders. When
both parties had agreed, they were of course in good humour, and
drank tVeely. Now was the time for the Colonel. To th<* Indiaris
he would aittrm that the traders only waited till they were asleep,
to but()her t-hern and take back their goods. The same story was
told to the traders, and a tight onsutid, the more terrible as the
whole party was more or less tipsy. Then, wdth some rogues in
his awn employ, the Colonel, under the pretext of making all safe,
would load tne mules with the fijrs and goods, proceed to Santa
Ffe, and dispose of his booty for one-third of its value- None cared
how it had beeh obtained; it was cheap, consequently it was wel¬
come.

His open robfreties and tricks of tliis description were so nume¬
rous, that Overton became the terror of the mountains. Th(f
savages 8W()re they would scalp him; the Canadians vou'^ed that
they would make him dance to death; the English declared that

MONSIEUB VIOLEl?.

they would hang him; and the Yankees, they would put hlui to
Indian torture. . The Mexicans, not being able any more to protect
their favourite, put a price upon his head. Under these circum-
.stances, Overton took an aversion to society, concealed himself, and
during two years nothing was heard of him; when, one day as a
party of Cornanches and Tonqucwas were returning from some
expedition, they perceived a man on horseback. They knew him
to be Overton, and gave chase Immediately.

The chase was a long one. Overton was mounted upon a power¬
ful and noble steed, hut the ground was broken and uneven; he
could not get out of the sight of his pursuers. However, he reached
a platform covered with fine pine trees, and thought himself safe,
as on the other side of the wood there was a long level valley ex¬
tending for many miles; and there ho would be able to distance his
pursuers, and escape. Away he, darted like lightning, their hor¬
rible yell still ringing in his cars; he spurred his horse, already
covered wdth foam, entered the plain, and, to his horror and
amayiement, found that between him and the valley there was a
horrible chasm, twenty-five feet in breadth, and two hundred feet
in depth, with acute angles of rocks, as numerous as the thorns
upon a prickly pear. "What could he do? His tired horse refused
to take the leap, an(l he could plainly hear the voices of the Indians
encouraging each other in the pursuit.

Along the edge of the precipice there lay a long hollow log, which
had been probably dragged there with the intention of making a
bridge across tlie chasm. Overton dismounted, led his horse to
the very brink, and pricked him with his knife; the noble animal
leaped, but his strength was too far gone for him to clear it; his
breast struck the other edge, and he fell from crag to crag into the
abyss below. This over, the fugitive crawled to the log, and con¬
cealed himself under it hoping that he would yet escape. He was
mistaken, for he had been seen; at that moment, the savages
emerged from the wood, an^ a fe^j^ minutes more brought them
around the Ihg. Now certain of their prey, they wished ^to make
him sufler a long mental agony, and they feigned not to know where
he was.

He has leaped over,” said one; “ it was the full Jump of a pan¬
ther. Shall we return or encamp here?”

The Indians agreed to repose for a short time; ^d then began
a conversation. One protested, if he could ever get Overton, he
would make him e&t his own bowels. Anotlwir spoke of red-hot
irons and of creeping flesh. No torture was left unsaid, and hor¬
rible must have been the position of the wretched Overton,

“His scalp is worth a hundred dollars,” said one.

“Wo will get it someday,” answered another. “But since we
are iiore, we had better camp and make a fire; there is a log,”

72 TllWELS AND ADVENTl'llES OF

Overton now perceived tiiat he was lost. From under the log
ho cast a glance around him; fhi're stood the grim warriors, how in
hand, and ready to kill him at his first movement. He understood
that the savages had been cruelly playing -with him, and en,joying
his state of horrible suspense. Though a .scoundrel, Overton was
brave, and had too much of the red blood within him not to wish
to disappoint his foes^he resolved to allow himself to be burnt,
and thus frustrate tluj anticipated pleasure of his cruel persecutors.
To die game to the last is an Iiidiau’.s glory, and under the most
excruciating tortures, few savages will ever give way to their bodily
sufferings.

Leaves and dried sticks soon surrounded and covered the log—
fire was applied, and the barbarians watched in silence. But Over-
ton had reckoned too much upon his fortitude. His blood after all
was but half Indian, and when the flames caught his clothes, he
could bear no more. He burst out from under the fire, and ran
twice round within the circle of his tormentors. They were still as
the grave, not a weapon was aimed at him, when, of a sudden, w’ith
all the energy of despair, Overton sprang through the circle and took
the fearful leap acros.s the chasm. Incredible as it may appear, he
cleared it by more than two feet: a cry of admiration burst from
the savages; but Overton was exhausted, and he fell slowly back¬
wards. They crouched upon their breasts to look down—for the
depth w^as so awful as to giddy their brains—and .saw their victim,
his clothes still in flames, rolling down from rock to rock till all
was darkness.

Had he kept his footing on the other sid- of the chasm, he would
have been safe, for a bold deed always commands admiration from
the savage, and at that time tliey would have scorned to use their
arrow.?.

Such was the fate of Colonel Overton 1

CHAPTER XIII.

At last WG passed the Rio Grande, and a few days more brought
us to Santa Fe. Much has been written about this rich and ro¬
mantic city, where formerly, if we were to believe travellers, dollars
and doubloons ^ere to be had merely for picking them up; but I
suspect the wrRers liad never seen the place, for it is a miserable,
dirty, little hole, containing about three thousand souls, almost
all of them half-brfid, naked, and starved. Such is Santa Fe. Fou
will there witness spectacles of wreterhedness and vice, hardly to
be found elsewhere—harsh despotism; immorality carried to its
highest degree, witii drunkenness and filth.

The value of the Santa Fe trade has been very much exaggerated.

atO>SII:;C7‘K VU)J.UT.

7a

Thi« toM 11 was fonuerly the rcatliest point to which goods could
bo brought overland from the States to Mexico; but since the coloni¬
zation of Texas, it is otherwise. The profits also obtained in this
trade are far from being 'what they used to be. The journey from
St. Louis (Missouri) is very tedious, the distance being about twelve
hundred miles; nor is the journey ended when you reach Santa
F6, as they have to continue to Chihuahua. Goods come into tho
country at a slight duty, compared to that payable on the coast,
five hundred dollars only (whatever may be the contents) being
charged upon each waggon; and it is this privilege which supports
the trade. But the real market commences at Chihuahua; north
of which, nothing is met with by the traveller, except the .most
abject moral and physical misery.

Of course, our time passed most tediously; the half-breeds were*
too stupid to converse with, and the Yankee fraders constantly
tipsy. Had it not been that Gabriel was well acquainted with the
neighbourhood, we should positively have died of ennui. As it was,
however, we made some ^cursions among tlie ranchcros or cattle,
breeders, and visited sevCTal Indian tribes, with W'hom wo hunted,
Avaiting impatiently for a westward-hound caravan.

One day, I had a rather serious adventure. Roche and Gabriel
were bear-hunting, while I, feeling tircnl, had remained in a rancho,
where, for a fcAv day.s, W'e had some amusement. In the afternoon,
J felt an inclination to eat some fish, and being told that at three
or four miles below, there was a creek full of fine basses, I Avent
away with my rifle, hooks, and line. I soon found the spot,
and was seeking for some birds or squirrels, whoso flesh I could
use as bait. As, rifle in hand, I Avalked w^atching the branches of
the trees along the stream, I felt something scratching my leggings
and mocassins; I looked down, and perceived a small panther-cub
frisking and frolicking around my feet, inviting me to play Avith it-
It Avas a beautiful little creature, scarcely bigger than a common
cat. 1 sat doAvn, put my rifle‘across my knees, and for some
minutes caressed it, as I w'ould have done an ordinary kitten; it
became very familiar, and 1 was just thinking of taking it with me,
w'hen I heard behind me a loud and w’cll-known roar, and, as the
little thing loft me, over my head hounded a dark heavy body. It
was a full-grown panther—^the mother of the cub. I never thought
of her.

I rose immediately. The beast having missed tho leap, had
fallen twelve feet below me. It crouched, sweeping the earth with
its long tail, and looking fiercely at me. Our eyes met. I confess it,
my heart was A-ery sjnall within me. I had my rifle, to be sure,
but the least movement to poise it would have been the signal for
a spring from the animal. At last, still ci’ouching, it crept back,
augmenting the distance to about thirty feet. Then it made a

74 TIIAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF

circle rcrand me, never for a moment taliinj^ its eyes off my face,
for the cub was still playing at my feet. 1 have no doubt that if
the little animal had been betwixt me and the mother, she would
have snatched it and run away with it. As it was, I felt very,
very queer; take to my heels I could not, and the panther would
not leave her cub behind; on the contrary, she continued making a
circle around me. I turning with her, and with ray rifle pointed
towards her.

As we both turned, with eyes straining at other, inch by
inch I slowly raised my rifle, till the butt reaeliiH ray shoulder;*!
caught the sight and held my breath. The cub in jumping burl
itself, and mewed; the mother answered by an angry gi'owl, and
just as she was about to spring, 1 fired; she stumbled backwards,
•and died without a struggle. My ball, having entered under tli(‘
left eye, had passed through the skull, carrying with if. a part of
the brain.

It Mas a toiTific animal; had I missed it, a single blow from her
paw would have crushed me to atoms.^^Jead as it was, with its
claws extended, as if to seize its prey, and its bleeding tongmj
hanging out, it struck me with awe. I took ofl’ the skin, bung it
to a tree, aad socurhig the cub, 1 hastened home, Ixaving lost my
appetite for fishing or a fish supper for that evening.

A week alter this circumstance a company of traders arrived
fipom St. Louis. They had boon attacked by Indians, and made a
doleful appearance. During their trip they had once remained six
days without any kind of foccl, except withered grass. Here it
may not be amiss to say a few umrds about tlu' origin of this
inland mercantile expedition, and the dangers with which the
traders are menaced.

In 1807, (laptain Pike, returning from hi.s exploring trip in the
interior of the American continent, made it known to tlm United
States merchants that they could establish a very profitable com¬
merce with the central province? of the North of Mexi('o; and in
1812, a small party of adventurers. Miller, Knight, Chambej'S,
Beard, and others, their whole number not excetiding twelve, forced
their way from St. I^ouis to Santa Fe, with a small quantity of
goods.

' It lias always been the policy of the Spaniards to prevent stran¬
gers from penetrating into the interior of their colonies. At that
jioriod, Meifico. being in revolution, strangers, and particularly
Americans, were looked upon with jealousy and distrust. These
merchants wci’e* consequently, seized upon, their goods confiscated,
and themselves shut up in thf prisons of Chihuahua, where, dur-
* ing several years, they underM'^emt a rigorous treatment.

It was, I believe, in the spring of 1821, that Chambers, with the
otlier prifioners, returned to the United States, and shortly aft(T-

MOJfSlEUIt VIOLKT.

w

wards a treaty with the States rendered tl\e trade lawful. Their
a<!f‘ouiits induced one Captain Glenn, of Cincinnati, to join them in a
commercial expedition, and another caravan, twenty men strong,
started again for Santa Fe. They sought a shortest* road to fall in
wdtli tho Arkansas river, but their enterprise failed: for, instead
of ascending the stream of the Canadian fork, it appears that they
only coasted the gi'eat river to its intersection by the Missouri
road.

- There 18 not ajfcop of water in this horrible region, which ex¬
tends oven to th?^Cimaron river, and in this desert they had to
suffer all the pangs of thirst. They were reduced to the necessity
of killing their dogs and blooding their mules to moisten their
parched lips. None of them perished; but, quite dispirited, they
changed tludi; direction and turned back to the nearest point of thd
river Ai’kansas, vvhiTo they were at least certain to find abundance
of nater. By this time their bea.sts of Imrden were so tired and
broken doivn that they had hceome of no use. They were therefore
obliged to conceal thciilil'oods, and arrived without any more
trouble at Santa Fc, wlien procuring otlier mules, they returned
to their cachette.

ATany reader.s ar(‘!|g‘ohably unaware of the iiroeess employed by
the traders to conceal their cargo, their anas, and even their pro¬
visions. It is nothing more than a large excavation in the earth,
in the shape of a jar, in which the objects are stored; the bottom
of the cachetic having been first c<»vored with wood and ^canvas, so
as to prevent anything being spoiled by tho damp. The important
science of euchaye (Canadian expression) consists in leaving no
trace which might betray it to the Indians; to prevent this, the
earth taken trom the excavation is put into blankets and carried
a great distance.

The place generally selected for a cachette is a swell in the prairie,
sufficiently elevated to be protqpted frorSf any kind of inundation;
and tlu! arrangement is so excellent, that it is very seldom that the
tr:Jiors lose anything in their cachefte, either by the Indians, the
changes of the climate, or the natural dampness of the earth.

Ill the .spring of 1820, a company from Franklin, in the west of
Missouri, had already proceeded to Santa Fe, with twelve mules
loaded with goods. They crossed prairies where no white man had
ever jienetrated,"having no guides but the stars of heaven, the morn¬
ing breeze firom the mountains, and perhaps a pocket compass.
Daily they had to pass through hostile nations; but spite of many
other difficulties, such as ignor^ce of the passes and want of
water, they arrived at Santa Fe.

The adventurers retm*ned to Missouri during the fall; their profit
had been immense, although the capital they bad employed had been
very .small. Their favourable reports produced a deep sensation,

76 'lllVVr.lj'S AKD Al>V*JN'rVKi:!> OF

a&d in the spring of tlie next year, Colonel Cooper and some as¬
sociates, to the number of tu enty-two, started with fourteen mules
well loaded. This time the trip was a prompt and a fortunate one;
and the merchants of St. Louis getting bolder and bolder, formed,
in 1822, a caravan of seventy ihen, w'ho carried with them goods to
the amomat of f<irty thousand dollars.

Thus began the Santa Fe trade, which assumed a more regular
character. Companies started in the spring to return in the fall,
with incredible benefits, and the trade increasmA the merchants
reduced the number of their guards, till, eventnallf^ repeated attacks
from the savages obliged them to unite together, in order to travel
with safyt 3 ^

At first the Indians appeared disposed to let them pass without
finy kind of Interruption; but during the summer of 1826“ they be¬
gan to steal the mules and the horses of the travellers; yet they
killed nobody till 1828. Then a little caravan, returning from Santa
Fe, followed the stream of the north fork of the Canadian river.
Two of the traders, having preceded company in search of
game, fell asleep on the edge of a brook. These w^ere espied by a
band of Indians, who surprised them, seized their rides, look then*
scalps, and retired before the caravan ha^ reached the brook,
w'hich had been agreed upon as the place of rendezvous. When the
traders arrived one of the victims still breathed. They carried
him to the Ciraaron, where he exjnred, and was buried according
to the praMc fashion.

Scarcely had the ceremony been terminated, when upon a neigh¬
bouring hill appeared four Indians, apparently ignorant of what
had happened. The exasperated merchants invited them into their
camp, and murdered all except one, who, although wounded, suc¬
ceeded in making his escape.

This cruel retaliation brought down heavy punishment. Indeed,
from that period the Indllins vowed an etenial war—a war to the
knife, “in the foi-ests and the prairies, in the middle of rivers and
lakes, and even among the mountains covered with eternal sno#s.”

Shortly after this event another caravan w’as fallen in with and
attacked by the savages, who carried oflT with them thirty-five
scalps, two hundred and fifty mules, and goods to the amount of
thirty thousand dollars.

These terrible dramas w^ei’e constantly re-actM in these vast
western solitudes, and the fate of the unfortunate traders Avould he
unkfiown until softie day, perchantre, a living skeleton, a famished
being covered wnth blood, dnst^and mire, would arrive at one of
the military posts on the borders, and relate an aivful and bloody
tragedy, from w^hich he alone had escaped.

In 1831, Mr. Sublette and his company crossed the prairies with
twenty-five waggons. He and his company were old pioneers

MONSIELR ViOLEt.

amon<? the Kooky Mountains, whom tlu! thirst of gold had trans¬
formed into merchants. They went without guides, and no oije
among them had over performed the trip. All that they knew was
that they were going from such to such a degree of longitude.
They reached the Arkansas river, but from thence to the Cimaron
there is no road except the numerous paths of the buffaloes, which,
intersecting the prairie, very often deceive the travellers.

When the caravan entered this desert the earth was entirely dry,
and the pioneer^^istaking their road, wandered during several
days exposed to Ini the horrors of a febrile thirst under a burning
sun. Often they were seduced by thei deceitful appearance of a
buffalo path, and in this perilous situation Captain Smith, one of
the owners of the caravan, resolved to follow’ one of these paths,
which he coasidered would indubitably lead him to some spring of*
w’ater or to a marsh.

He was alone, but he had never known fear. He was the most
determined adventurer w ho had over passed the Ko(!ky Mountains,
and if but half of what is <^id of him is true, his dangerous travels
and his hairbreadth escapes would fdl many volumes more interest¬
ing and romantic than the best pages of the American novelist.
Poor man! after hav^g, during so many years, escaped from the
arrow’s and bullets of the Indians, ho was fated to fall under the
tomahaw’k, and his bones to bleach upon the desert sands.

lie was about tw’clvo miles from his comrades, when turning
round a small hill, he perceived the long-sought object of his wishes,
A small stream glided smoothly in the middle of the prairie before
him. It was the river Cimaron. He hurried forward to moisten
Ills parched lips, but just as he was .stooping over the water he
fell, pierced by ten arrow's. A band of Comanches had espied him,
and waited there for him. Yet he struggled bravely. The Indians
have since acknowledged that, wounchid as he was, before dying,
Captain Smith had killed three of their people.

Such w’as the origin of the Santa Fe trade, and such are the Ua-
biliticjs which are incurred, even now’, in the great solitudes of the
West.

CHAPTER XIV.

Time passed away, till I and my companions were heartily tired of
our inactivity; besides, I w’as home-sick, and I had left articles of
great value at the settlement, about ^hich I was rather fidgetty.-
So one day we determined that ^’e would start alone, and return
to the settlement by a different road. We left Santa Fe and
rode towards the north, and it was not until we had passed Taos,
the last Mexican settlement, that we became ourselves again, and
recovered our good spirits. Gabriel know the road; onr number

TttAVliLa AND ADVENTURES OE

wa« too small not to find plenty to cal, and as to the hostile Indians,
it was a chance we were willing enough to encounter. A few days
after wo had quitted Santa I'e, and when in the neighbourhood of
the 8pai\isb Peaks, and about thirty degrees north latitude, we feU
in with a niunerous i)arty of tho Comanches,

It w'as the fii’st time we had seen them in a body, and it was a
grand sight. Gallant horsemen they were, and well mounted.
They were out upon ah expedition against the I’awneo* Loups,
and they behaved to us with the greatest kindness and hospitality.
The t:hief knew Gabriel, and invited us to go in company with
thorn t«» their place of oncampim>ut. Tho chief was a tall, fine fel¬
low, and with beautiful symmetry of figure. IJe spoke Spanish
well, and the conversation was carried on in that tongue until tho
•evening, when I addressed him in Shoshone, w'hich beautiful dialect
is common to tho (Jomandies, Apai-hes, and Arrapahoes, and re¬
lated to him the circumstances of our captivity on the shores of
the Colorado of the West. As I told my story, the chief was mute
with astoiushment, until at last throw^g aside the usual Indian
decorum, he grasped me firmly by the hand. He knew I was
neither a Yankee nor a Mexican, and sw^oreihat for my sake every
Canadian or Frenelnnan falling in their power should be treated as
a flriend. After our meal, wo sat comfortably round the fires, and
listened to several spoetdies and traditions of the w^arriors.

One point struck me forcibly during my eonvorsatiou with that
noble warrior. According to his ver.sion, the Comanches were, in
the beginning, very partial to the Texians, as llu'y were bravo,
and some of them generous. i3ut ho sai l, that afterwards, as they
increased their number and established their power, tlu'y IxHiume
a rascally pf*oplo, cowards and uiuj-denTs. On('. circumstariec
above all firetl the blood of Iht' ComaiU'h<;s, and since that time it

* The word Pawnee signifieh “ cj ilrd'’ therefore it does not follow that tho
three tribes bearing the some name belong to the same nation.

The Grand Pawnees, the tribe among whom Mr. Murray resided, are of
13ahcotah origin, and live along the shores of the river Platte; the Pawnw
Loups are of the Algonqi\in race, spoaUng quite another Iiuiguage, and oocupy-
ing the country situated between the northern forks of the same river. Both
^Ihes are known among the trappers tp be the “ Crows of tfie Eastthat is
tlueves and treacherous. They cut their hair short, except on the lAialp,
iisuai among tlie nations from which they have sprung,
xhe third tribe of that name is called Pawnee Piet, these are of Comanche
origin and Shoshone race, wearing their hair long, and spealdng tlie same lan¬
guage as all tiro westeinr great prairie trilres. Thoy live upon the Red River,
■which forms the boundary betwixt Nurtli Texas and tiro Western American
boundary, and have been visited by Mr. Oatliu, who mentions them in his
work. The Piets are constantly at war wdth tlic two other tribes of Pawnees;
and though their villages are nearly one thousand miles dlshint from those of
their enemy, tlreir war-^ties are eontlnnally scouring the country at the
“iSxUes of the East"—

MOKSx£Un VIOLET. 79

lias been, and will bo, with tbom a war of extinction against the
Texiaus.

An old Comanche, with a daughter, had separated himself from
their tribe. He was a chief, but he bad been unfortunate; and,
being sick, he retirwl to San Antonio to try the skill of the great
Pale-face med,ecin. His daughter was a noble and handsome girl
of eighteen, and she had not been long ui the place before she at¬
tracted the attention of a certain doctor, a young man from Ken¬
tucky, who had betm tried for murder hi the States. He was the
greatest scoimdrel in the world; but, being a desperate character,
he was feared, and, of eourso, courted by his fellow Texiaiis.

Perceiving that he could not succeed in his views so long as the
girl was with her father, he contrived to throw the old man into
jail, and, inducing her to come to lii.s house to see what could be*
done to release him, he abused her most shamefully, using blows
and violence to acoomplisb his purpose, to such a degree that he
left her for dead. ToM'ards the evening, she regained some strength,
and found a shelter in the dwelling of some humane Mexican.

The old Indian was soon liberated: ho found his daughter, but
it was on her death-bed; and tlicii ho learned the circumstances of
the shameful transaction, and deeply vowed revenge. A Mexican
gentleman, indignant at such a cowardly deed, in the name of out¬
raged nature and humanity, laid the cause iSefore a jury of Texians.
The doetor was acquitted by the 'fexian jury, upon tlic ground that
tho laws were not made for the henoflt of tho (lomauches.

The conseqa(>nces may 1)(‘ told in a few words. One day Dr.
Oohbei w as found in tni adjoining field stabbed to the heart and
scalped. Tho Indian bad run aw'ay, and meeting with a ]iarty of
Comaiu^hes, be related liis Avrongs and his revenge. They received
him again into the tribe; but the injury was a national one, not
sufficiently punished. TbatAveok twenty-three Texians lost their
scalps, and fourtetTi women Avere carried into the Avilderness, tluTc
to die in captivity.

The (kmianche chief advised us to keep close to the shores of the
llio Grande, that we might not meet TAuth the parties of the Pawnee
lioups; and so much was ho pleased Aviihus, that he resolved to
turn out of his way and accompany us Avith his men some thirty
miles farther, when w'^e should be comparatively out of dang^t.
Tlie next morning w'^e started, tho thief and I riding close together,
and speaking of tho Shoshones. We exchanged our knives, as a
toktm of friendship, and Avlien wo parted, he assembled all his men
ami made the folloAving speech:—

“The young child’ of the Shoshones is returning to his brave^
people across the rugged mountains. Learn his name, so that you
may tell your children that they have a friend in Owato Wanlsha.
He is neither a Shakauath (an Englishman), nor a Kishemoc Co-

TR,VVELS AND ADVENTURES Or

moauak (a long knift^ a Yankee), Hi* is a chief among the tribe
of our great-grandfathers; he is a chief, though he is very, very
young."

At this moment all the warriors came one after the other' lo
shake hands with me, and when this ceremony was terminated,
the chief resumed his di.scourse.

“ Owata Wanisha, we met as strangers, we part as friends. Tell
your young warriors you have been among the Coraanches, and
that we would like to know them. Tell them to come, a few or
many, to our waiMmns (lodges); they will find the moshkotaj
(buffalo) in plenty.

“ Farewell, yomig chief, with a pale face and an Indian heart;
the earth be light to thee and thine. May the white Manilou clear
•for thee the mountain path, and may you never fail to remember
Opishka Toaki (the White. Raven), wlio is thy Comanche friend,
and who would fain share "with thee his home, his wealth, and his
wide jirairies. I have said. Y^oung brother, farewell.”

, The tear.s stood in our eyi's as gallantly the band wheeled round.
We watched them till they had all disappeared in the horizon.
And these noble fellows were Indians!—had they been Texians, they
would have murdered us to obtain our horses and rifles.

Two days afterward.s we crossed thi* llio Grande, and entered the
dreary path of the mountain.s, in the hostile and inho.spitable country
of the Navahoes and the Crows.*

We had been travelling eight days on a most awful stony road,
when at last we reached the head waters of the Colorado of the
We.st, but we were very weak, not having touched any food during
the last five days, except two small rattlesnakes and a few berries
Tve had picked up on the way. On the morning we had chased a
large grizzly bear, but to no purpose; our poor horses and our¬
selves were too exhausted to follow the animal for any time, and
with its disappearance vanished au ay all hopes of a dinner.

It was evening before we reached the river, and by that time we
were so much maddened with hunger, that we seriously thought of
killing one of our horses. Luckily at that instant we espied a
smoke rising from a camp of Indians in a small valley. That they
were foes we had no doubt: but hunger can make heroes, and we
determined to take a meal at their expense. The fellows had been
IttC^y, for around their tents they had hung upon poles large pieces

* Th6 Grows luro gallant horsemen; but, although they have assumed the
manners and customs of tlie Shoshones, they are of the Paheotah breed.
There is a great difference l>etween the Shoshone tribes and the Crows. The
latter want that spirit of cblvalfy so rcmarkalde funong the Cocnanches, the
Arrapahoes, and tne Sho^ones-^that nobility of feeling wliich sooms to take
an enemy at a dist^Tantage. I should say that the Shoshone tribes are tbo
lions, and the Crows the tigers of these deserts.

MON.SIKUlt VIOLKT.

or meat to dry. They had no horses, and only a few dogs scat¬
tered about the camp. "We skh-tod the plain in silence, and at
dark we had arrived at tlirt'c limidrc'd yartls from them, concealed
by the projecting rooks which formed a kind of belt around the
cam]).

Now was our time. Giving the ^Shoshone war-whoo]), and mak¬
ing as much noise as we could, we spurred on our horses, and in a
few moments each of us had .secured a piecse of meat from the poles.
Tile Crows (for the camp contained fift(‘cn Crows and tiirec Arra-
pahocs), on hearing the war-whoop, W(tc .so territied that they had
all run away without ever loolcing behind tlu'm; but the Arrapa-
hoes stood their ground, and having recovered from tlieir fir.st sur¬
prise, they assaultod ns bravely with their lances and ai*rows.

Boche was sev(*rely bruisetl by his horse falling; my i)istol, by .
disabling his ojiponiMit, who w^as advancing with his tomahawk,
saved his lilV-. Gabriel had cooly thrown his lasso round his oppo¬
nent and had already strangled him, wdiile tlie third had been, in
the very beginning of the tattat'k, run over by my horse. Gabriel
lighted on the ground, entered the lodges, cut the strings of all the
bows he could tind, and, colh'cting a lew more pioei'.s of the meat,
we started at.a full gallop, not being inclined to wait till the Crow.s
should have recovered from their panie. Though our horsc.s wore
very tired, wc rode tJiirtcc'n niile.s more that night, and, about ten
o’clock, arrived at a beautifid spot with plenty of line grass and
cool water, upon whicJi bothw^e and our horses stretched ourselves
most luxuriously even before eating.

(’aivital jokt‘s were pass('d round that night while vv^e were dis¬
cussing the qualiti(‘s of tlie mountain-goat flesh, but yet I felt
annoyed at our feat; the tiling, to be sure, had been gallantly done,
Blill it was nothing heller than highway robbery. Hunger, how¬
ever, is a good palliative for couscieuce, and having well rubbed
our horses, wdnch seemed to enjoy their grazing amazingly, we turned
to rv'pose, watching alternately for every three hours.

The next day at noon we met with unoxjiected sport and com¬
pany. As we were going along, we perceived two men at a distance
sitting clo.se together uiion the ground, and aiiparently in a vehe¬
ment conversation. As tliey were white men, we dismounted and
secured ovir horses, and then crept silently along until we were near
the strangers. The}- w'ore two very queer-looking beings; one long
and lean, the other short and stout.

"Blcs,s me,” tlie fat om* said, “bless me, Pat Swiney, but 1 think
the Fronchcr.s will never return, and so we must die liere like
starved dogs.”

“Och,” answered the thin one, “they huv'o gone to kill game.
By St. Patrick, I wish it would come, raw or cooked, for my bowels
are twisting like worm.s on a liook.”

r

82

fKAVELS ANU AbVENTIUlES Of

“Oh! Pat, 1)0 a good man; can't 3011 go and pick some herrios.''
My sUmiaeh is like an empty hag.”

“Faith, my legs an’t bott<T thanyonrs,” ansA\oml the Irishman,
patting his knee with a kind of angry gestnn'. And for the first
time >ve percoiv(‘d that the legs of both of them Avere shockingly
swollen.

“If we could onU' nteet Avith tlu; Welsh Imlians or a gold mine,”
re.sumod the sliort man.

“Hothenition,” e\elniiin'd his irascihlc com])anion. “Bother
them all—^tho "Welsli Indians and the Welsh English.”

■\Ve saw that Imngt'r had made the poor fellows rather quarrid-
sonie, so we kindly interftga'd A\itli a liamiendous A\ar-who<)p. 'J'lu!
fat one elosod his eyes and allowed himself to fall (h)wn, AAhile his
, felloAV ill inisfortunt' ros(‘ uj), in spite of the state of his legs.

“ Come,” ruart'd lie, “ come, ye rascally' red devils; do your w orst.
without nuu'cy, for I uiii lame and hungry,”

There Avas something noble in his words and pathetic in the
ai'tion. lloche, laitting his hand on his shoiihler, whispered some
IrLsh words in ins ear, and the poor li-llow ahno.st eut a caper.
“ l’’aith,” lie said, “if you are not a (Virk hoy you arc the devil;
bat dcA'il or no, lor the sajfe of the old (‘oiintry, give us something
local—to me and that jioor AVclsh dreamer. I fear >our hellish
yell has taken tlu' liti' out ol him.”

Such was not the casi'. At the words somfthmg to llic
follow^ opened his cy(‘s wilh a stare, and exclaimed—

“The Welsh Indians, by Ht. David!”

Wc answ'ered him wdth a rorr ofmeri humit tliat rathi'r conbised
him, and his companion UTiswerod—

“Ay! Welsh Indians or Irish bidians, for what I kiiovA'. Get
up, will yc, ye lump of flesh, and iiolilely tell the geuUemeu that ye
have ta.stcd nothing hir the last threp days.”

Of course we lost no timi' in lighting a fire and lirmgiiig our
horses. Tlic meat was soon cooked, and it was w'onderful to sec
hoAV quickly it disapp-'ared in file .jaAvs of our two new friends.
We had yet about twelve pounds of it, and we were enlering a
country vvliere game would be found daily, ^o we did not ri'pino at
their most inordinate api>otites, but, on the eontrary, encouraged
them to continue. W'licu the fir.st pangs of hungiT vv'cre a litth'
soothed, they both looked at us with moist and grateful eyes.

“Och,” said the Irishman, “but ye are kind gentlemen, Avhat-
ever you may be, to give us .so good a ini'al when perh}ip.s you have
no more."

Koche shook him hy the hand. “Eat on, fellow," he .said, “eat
m, and never fear. We w'll afterwards see AVhat can be done for
the logs.” As to the Whd.slunan, lie never .said a word for a full hall’
hour. He would look, hut eoukl neither .speak iior hear, .so intensely

5tO^*9IElTR VIOLIS'I'.

83

btisy was lie with an enormous jnece of half-raw tlesh, which he was
tearinf' and sw'allowinpf like a liungry wmlf. There is, however, ah
end to everjdhiri'?, and w'hcn satiety had suifeeeded to want, they
related us the circumstances that had led them where they were.

3’hi'3' Iiad come as jourm^vmen with a small caravan ^;oing from
St. Louis to .Vstoria. On the (ireen River tluy had been attacked
by a war-p:u’t,y of the Bl.'ick-feet, who had killed all oveept them,
Ihfuiks to the Irishman’s pr('sejticc of mind, w'ho pushed his fat
companion into a d('e]) lissnre of the earth, and jumped after him.
Thus tfiey sav(‘d their ba,eon, and had soon the consolation of
hearing the saiages carr^dng away the goods, leading the mules
tinvards the iforth. For three, days they^ had uaiidered south, in
the hope of nu'eting witli some trap]>crs, and this very morning
they liad talliui in with two Fri-nch tra])p(Ts, who tohl them to*
remain there and repos(' till their riduni, as tln'y w('re going after
game.

^Vhile 1 luy wi'ia' narrating their hlstorjg the two trappers arrived
with a fat buck. Th(\y wej'c old fri<'nds, having both of them tra-
vi'lled and iimited with Gatiriel. ’\V(‘resolvt'd not to proceed anj'
further that day, and the}’- langhtnl a great diail when w’c related to
them our prow'o^s against the Crows. An a]»])lieation of bruised
leaves of tin; (iibsoii wcasl up(»n tlie legs of tlu' tw'o sufferers imme¬
diately soothed ilieir jiaiu, and the lU At inomiug they were able to
ust* Rofhc’s and (lahriel’s horses, and to follow'us to Browmball,
an American fnr-tradiiig port, which place we reached in two days.

There we jairted from our comiaiiiy, and rapidly continued our
march towairds tlu* .setthniient. Ten da,ys did we travel thus in the
heart of a tim* country', ivluna' game at every moment crossed onr
path. \Vc arrned in tlie deserted country of the Bonnaxes, and
were scarcely two days’ journey from the easti^rn Shoshone bouu-
daiy, w hen, as ill luek would hav(* it, w’O met once more with our
old enemiijs, the Arrapahoes. This time, ho^vevor, wo were deter¬
mined not to b(‘ put any more on dog’s-mCat allowance, and to
light, if neci'ssary, in dctimec of our liberty.

W'e were surrounded hut not taken; a.nd .sjiace, being ours and
our ritle.s true, we hoped to escape, not one of our enemies having,
as we well knew, any fire-arms. They reduced tlieir circle smaller
and smaller, till tluy stood at about a bundred and fifty yards
from us; tlu'ir horses fat arid iilump, but of the small wild breed,
and incapable of running a race with our tall and beautiful Mexi¬
can ehargers. At that moment Gabriel raised his hand, as if for
a signal; we all three darted like lightning through the line ot
warriors, w'ho w'ere too much taken by surjiriso even to use their
bows. They soon recovered from their astonisliment, and giving
the war-whoop, with many ferocious 3'^olls of disappointment,
dashed after us at their utmo.st sya'ed.

M TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES Or

Their horses, as I have said, could not run a race with ours, but
in a long chase their hardy little animals would have had the
advantage, especially as our own steeds had already performed so
long a journey. During the two first horn’s we kept them out of
sight, but towards dark, as our beasts gave in, we saw" their forms
in the horizon IxKoraing more and more distinct, while, to render
our escape less probable, we found ourselves opposed in front by a
chain of mountains, not high, but verj’ steep and rugged.

“On, ahead, we ar(‘ safe!” eried Gabriel. Of course there was
no time for explanation, and ten minutes mon* saw us at the foot
of the mount am. “Kot a word, but do as 1 do,” again said my
companion. We fidlow'ed his e.vample by unsaddling our animals,
and taking off the bridles, wdtli whieh we whipped them. The
• poor things, though tired, galloped to the south, as if they were
aware of the impending dangt'r.

“Iunderstand, Gabriel,” said 1, “the savages cannot see us in
the shades of these hills; they w ill follow our horses by the sounds.”

Gabriel chuckled with d(‘light. “llight,” said he, “right enough,
but it is not all. I know' of a ])oat on the other side of the moun¬
tain, and the Ogden river will earr}" us not far from the Uuona
Ventura.”

I started. “A mistake,” I exclaimed, “dear friend, a sad mis¬
take; w"e are more than thirty miles from tlie river.”

“From the main river, yi‘.s,” answered he, sliaking my hand;
“but many an otter have 1 kilh'd in a pretty lake tw"o miles from
here, at tiie southern sid(‘ ol' this hill. There I liave a boat w"ell
concealed, as I hoi>p; and it is a jjlae*' .vhere we may defy all the
Arrapahoes, and the Crows to back them. From that lake to th(‘
river it is but thirty miles’ paddling in a smooth Ciinal, made either
by nature or by a former race of im'ii.”

I need not .say how cheerfully wo walked those two miles, in
spite of the w^eight of our saddles, rides, and acoutrements. Our
ascent was soon over, ai>d striking into a small tortuous deer-path,
we perceived below us the transparent sheet of water, in wdiich a
few stars reflected their pale and tremulous light. When W"e
reached the shore of the lake, we found ourselvi's surrounded by
vast and noble ruins, like those on the Bnona Ventura, but cer¬
tainly much more romantic. Gabriel welcomed us to his trapping-
gi’ourid as a lord in his domain, and soon brought out a neat little
canoe, from a under a kind of ancient vault.

“This canoe,” said lie, “ once belonged to one of the poor fellow".s
that was murderfed with the Prince Seravalle. We brought it
here six years ago with great secrecy; it cost him twenty dollars,
a rifle, and six blankets. Now’, in the middle of this lake there is
an island, w'here he and I lived together, and where we can
remain for months without any fear of Indians or starvation.’*

MoysiEim vioiiirr.

85

■ Wft all three entered the canoe, leaving our saddles behind us,
to rcicover them on the following day. One hour’s paddling brought
us to the island, and it was truly a magiiifiecnt spot. It W'as covered
with ruins; graceful obelisks were shaded by the thick foliage of
immense trees, and Ihe soft light of the moon, beaming on the
angles of the mined monuments, gave to the whole scenery the
line of an Italian landseapc.

“Here we are safe,” said (Jabriel, “and to-morrow vou wall dis-
cover that my old resting-place is not deficient in comfort.”

As we w'ere very tired, ive laid down and soon slept, forgetting
in this little paradise the dangers and the fatigues of the day.
Our host’s repose, however, was shorter than mine, for long before
morii he had g6no to fetch our .saddles. Rochi' and 1 would pro¬
bably have slept till his return, had w'c not been awakened by the*
report of a rifle, which came down to us, repeated by a thousand
echoes. Aii hour of intense anxiety was passed, till at last we
saw Gabriel paddling towards us. The sound of the rifle had,
how'cver, betrayed our place of cimcealmenl, and as Gabriel neared
the island, the shore oy>posit(' to us began to swarm with our dis¬
appointed enemies, who, in all probability, had camped in the
neighbourhood. As my friend landed, I was beginning to scold
him for his imprudence in using his rifle; under our present circum¬
stances, wlieii a glance shewed moat once he had met with an
adventure* similar to miiio near to Santa Fe. In the, canoe lay tlu;
skin of a large finoly-spotti d .jaquar, and by it a young cub, play¬
ing unconsciously w ith the scalping-knife, yet reeking in it smother's
lilood.

“Could not help it—self-defence!” exclaimed ho, jumping on
shore. “Now the red devils know wiiere we are, but it is a know'^-
ledg(; that brings them little good. The lake is ten fathoms in
depth, and they w ill not swim three miles under the muzzles of our
rifles. When they are tired of seeing us fisliing, and hearing us
laughing, they will go aAvay like disappointed foxes.”

So it proved. That day we took our rifles and went in the
canoe to within eighty yards of the Indians, on the main land, we
fishing for trouts, and inviting them to share in our sport. They
yellelt awfully, and abused u.s not a little, calling us by all the
names their rage could find—squaws, dogs of Pale-faces, cowards,
thieves, &c. At last, however, they retired in tlie direction of the
river, hoping yet to have us in their powder; but so little had we to
fear, that wo determined to pass a few* days on the island, that wo
might repose from our fatigues.

When wo decided upon continuing our route, Gabriiil and Roche
were obliged to leave their saddles and bridles beliind, as the
canoe was too small for ourselves and luggage. This was a misfor¬
tune which could be easily repaired at the settlement, and till then

Jj(i TUAVEJ.S AN1> ADVEHTUKES 01

saddles, of course, were useless. We went, on mori’ily from forty-
five to fifty miles every day, on the surface of tJie rao.st transparent
and coolest water in the world. Durin.*? the night we would land
and sleep on the shore. Game ■w'as \ery plentiful, for at almost
every mmute we would i>ass a stag or a bull drinking; soinetinie.s
at only twenty yards* distance.

During this trip on th(^ Ogden river, we jiassed four other imig-
niflcont lakes, but not one of t)i(‘m bewaring any marks of former
civilization, as on the shore.s of the* first one' whicdi had sheltered
us. We left the river two hundred and forty miles from wher<^ we
had commenced our naviga.tion, ami, carrying our (‘auoe over a
portage of three milCvS, we launched it again upon rme of the tribu¬
taries of the Buona Ventura, two hundred mih's north-east from
•the settlement.

The'eurrent was now in our favour, and in lour days more we
landed among my good friends, the filioshones, who, after our ab¬
sence of nine months, received ns with almost a childish joy. They
had given ns up for dead, and suspeetiiig tin* Crows of having had
a hand in our disappearance, th(‘y had made an invasion into tlanr
tevdtory.

Six days after our arrival, our throe horses were perceived
swimming aero.ss the river; the faithful animals had also es(!aped
from our enemies, and found their way hack to tlieir masters and
their native prairies.

CllAPTKil XV

Dobing my long ahseuce and eapti\hy among the Arrai>alu)es, I
had often reflected upon the gi*ea.t advantages which would accrue
if, by any possibility, the various tribes which wwo of Shoshone
origin could b(‘ induced to unite with fhem in one confederacy;
and the more I reflected upon the subject, the more resolved I be¬
came, that if ever I returned to thi; settlement, I would make tlio
proposition to our eliiefs in council.

The number.s composing these tribes were as folh)ws:_Tin;

Shoshones, amounting to aboiit 60,000, indepimdcnt of th(j moun¬
tain tribes, which we might compute at l0,(Kf0 more; the Apibhes,
about 40,01H); the Arrapahoes, about 20,000; th(’ Comanclies and
the tribes springing from them, at the lowest computation, amount¬
ing to 60,000 more. Speaking the same language, having the same
religious formula, the same manners and customs, nothing a]j-
pearod to me to bo more h'asible. The Arrapahoes were tlit* only
one tribe which was generally at variance with us, but they were
separated from the Shoshones mucli later than the other tribes,
and were therefore even more Shoshone than the Apaches and
Coraanches.

MONtJIHUU VIOJ.LT.

at

Sliortly after ray rclin’ii, I actetl upr»n my resolution. I sum-
luoned all the chiefs of our nation to a K^eat council, and in the
month of Anj^ust, we were all assembled outside of the nails of
the settlement. After tin' preliminary eeromonies, J addressed
them:—

Slnmlioneh! brave ehildren of the (trand Stu'pent ! ray wish is
to render you hapi»y, rieh, and powerful. Durinti^the day I think
of it: 1 dream f)f it in niy .sleep. At last, I have had gr<!at thoughts
—thoughts proceeding frojn the Manitou. JI<‘ar now the words of
Owato Wanislia; he is young, very young; liis skin is that of a
Pale-tVioe, hut his heart i.s a Sh(>shone’.s.

“ \\'Tien you refused to till tlie ground, you did w'ell, for it wa.s
not in your nature—the vniture of man eannot, be changed like that
of a moth. Yet, at that time, you understood well tlie m(jaii8.i
which giv^(' power to a grc'at peof)le. AV(‘alth alone eau maintain
the superiority that bravery lias asserted. Wealth and bravi'ry
make strength—stnuigth which nothing can break down, except
the great Master of Jnfi'.

“ The Shoshones kiu'W this a long time ago; tlu-y are brave, hut
they have no wealth; and if they still koej) their superiority, it is
hecause their enemies are at this time avv'tsl hy the strength and
the (Mmning of their warriors.. But the Shoslione.s, to keep their
ground, will some day be obliged to sleep always on their borders,
to repel thiur enemies. They will be too busy to tish and to hunt.
Their squaws and eliildreu will shirve. Evim now the evil has
h(‘gun. What hunting and what fisliing have you liad this last
year? None! As soon as the bravos liad arrivt'd at tlu’ir hunting-
ground, they were obliged to return back to defend their squaw.s.
and to ]mniah their enemies. ^

“Now, why slioiild not th(‘ Shoshones put themselves at oncio
above the reach of .such chances? Wli,y .should they not get rich?
Th(‘y object to planting grain and tobacco. They do well, as other
jieople can do that for tluun; but there are many other means of
getting .strength and wijalih. These T w ill teai'h to my tribe 1

“ Tlie vShoshom's fight the (Irows, because the (Irows are thieves;
the Flal-hoads, bee,au,sc they are greedy of our buffaloes; the Ura-
biquS?, because they .steal horses. Were it not for them, the chil¬
dren of the Grand Serpent would nevir fight: their lodges wwild
fill with wealth, and that wealth would purchase all the good
things of th<^ white men from distant lands. These white men
come to the Watehimingoe.s (Mexicans), to take the hide.s of their
oven, the wool of their Tiheep. They would eome to us, if we had
anything to offer t.ltem. IjOt u.s then call them, for we haye the
hides of thousands of buffaloes; we have the furs of the beaver
and the otter; we have plenty of copper in our mountains, and
gold m our streams, '

88

TllAVELS AND ADVENTl'UJ;.i oi*

•* Now, hear me. When a Shoshone chief thinks that the Crows
will attack Ijis lodfre, he calls his children and his nephews around
him. A nation can do the same. The Shoshones have many brave
children in the prairies of the south, they have many more on the
borders of the Yankees. All of them think and speak like their
ancestors; they are tlie same people. Now, Avould it not be good
and wise to hav^ all these bra^ e grand-children and grand-nephews
as your neighbours and allies, instead of the (h-ow.s, the Cayuses,
and the Urabiquas? Yes, it would. Wh(> would dare to come
from the north across a country inhabited by the warlike Comanehes,
or from the south and the rising .sun, through the wigwams of the
Apaches ? The Shoshones would then have more than 30,000 war¬
riors ; they would sweep the country, from the sea to the mouii-
•tains; from the river of the north (Columbia) to the towns of the
Watchinangoe.s. When the vhito men would come in their big
canoes, as traders and friends, we would receive them well; if they
come as foes, we will laugh at them, and whip them like dogs.
These are the thoughts which 1 wanted to mal^e known to the
Shoshones.

“‘During my absence, I have s(‘en tlie Apaches and the Co-
manche.s. They arc both great nations. Let us send some wisi*
men to invito tlicm to return to their fathers; let oiir chiefs offer
them wood, land, and water. I have said.”

As long as 1 spoke, the dee])est .silence reigned over the whoh^
assembly; hut as .soon as 1 sat down, and began smoking, tliens
was agenerid movement, winch sIiow('d me tliat 1 had made an
impression. The old great chief rose, however, and the murmurs
were hushed. lie spoke:—

“ Owata Waiiisha has spolmn. J h.'ive heard. It was a strange
vision—a beautiful dream. Mv heart became young tigain, my body
lighter, and any eyes more keen. Yet 1 cannot see the future; 1
must fast and laray, I must a.sk the great Master of Life to lend me
his wisdom.

“I know the Comanehes, 1 know thii Apaches, and the Arrapa-
hoes. They are our ehildrcu; 1 kaiow it. The Comanehes have
left us a long, long time, hut the Apaches and the Arrapahoe-s have
not yet forgotten the hunting-grounds where their fathers^vere
born. When I was hut a young hunter, they would come every
snow to the lodge of our Manitou, to offer their presents. It was
long beibre any Pale-face had passed the mountains. Since that,
the loaves of the oaks have grown and died eighty times. It i.s a
long w'hile for a man, but for a nation it is but as yesterday.

“ They are our children; it would be good to hav^e them with us;
they would share our hunts; we would divide our wealth with
them. Then we would be strong. Owata Wanisha has spoken
w'ell; he hath learned many mysteries with the Macota Conaya

aroNSUiUR violet.

89

(black robes—priests); ho is wise. Yet, as I have sa^, the Red¬
skin chiefs must ask wisdom from tlio Great Master. He will let
tis know what is good and what is bad. At the next moon, we
will return to the council. 1 have said.”

All the chiefs departed, to prepare for their fasting and cere¬
monies, while Gabriel, Roche, my old servant, and myself, con¬
certed our rnejRuros so as to insure the success of my enterprise.
My servant T despatchf'd to Monterey, Gabriel to the nearest vil¬
lage of the Apaches, and as it was proper, according to Indian
ideas, that I should ho out of the way during the ceremonies, so as
not to influenc^e any chief, I retired with Roche to the boat-house,
to pass the time until the new moon.

Upon the day agreed upon, we were all once more assembled at
the council-ground, on the shores of the Buoiia Ventura. Tht*
chiefs and elders of the tribe had assumed a solemn demeanour, and
even the men of dai’k deeds (the Medecins) and the keepers of the
sacred lodges, had made tlicir appearance, in their professional
dresses, so as to impress upon the beholders the importance of the
})resent transaciion. One of the sacred lodge first arose, and
making a signal with his hand, jmepared to speak:—

“ Shoshones,” said he, “ now has come the time in wJiicIi our
nation must either rise above all others, as the eagle of the moun¬
tain rises above thf* small birds, or sink down and disappear from
the surface of the earth. Had we been left such as we were before
the Pale-faces crossed the mountains, wo would have needed no
other hclj) but a Shoshone lieart and our keen arrows to crush our
enemies; but the Pale-faces have double hearts, as well as a double
tongue; they arc friends or enemies as their thirst for wealth guides
them. They trade with the Shoshones, but they also trade with the
Crows and the Umbiquas. The young chief, Owato Wanisha, hath
proposed a new path to our tribe; he is j'oung, but he hath received
ills wisdom from the Black-gowns, who, of all men, are the most
v\ ise. I have heard, as our elders and ancient chiefs have also
hoard, the means by which he thinks we can succeed. We have
fasted, we have prayed to the Master of Life to show unto us the
path which we must follow. Shoshones, w'o live in a strange time!
Our ^reat Manitou bids us, Red-skins, obey the Pale-face, and fol-
h>^v' him t o conquer or die. I have said! The chief of many winters
will now address his warriors and friends 1”

A murmur ran through the whole assembly, who seemed
evidently much moved by this political speech from one whom they
wore accustomed to look upon with dread, as the interpreter of the
will of heaven. The old chief, who had already spoken in the for¬
mer council, now rose and spoke with a tremulous, yet distinct
voice.

“1 have fasted, I have prayed, I have drcametl. Old men, wlio

90 TRAVELS ATSD ADVE>rilIlES OF

have lived #1111081 all their life, have a Itei^ner perception to read
the wishes of the Master of Life concerning llu* future. Tam a.
chief, and have been a chief during sixty changes of the season.
I ara proud of my statfon, and as I liav<* struck de(‘pest in the
heart of our enemies, f am jealous of that ])owi'r whicli is mitu',
and would yield it to no one, if the great IManitou flid not order it*
"When this sun will have disap]>eared behind the salf^wa(<*r, I .shall
no longer lie a cliief! f)wato Waiiisha will »gnide our warriors, he
will preside in council, for two god.s are Avith him—the Manitou of
the Pale-.faces and the Manitou of the Kc'd-skins.

“Hear my words, Shoshones! I .shall soon join my father and
grandfather in the happy lands, for I ara old. Yet, bef(»re my
bones are buried at the foot of the hills, it would brighten my
heart to .see the glory of the Shoshone.s, which I know must
be in a short time. Hear my words! Long age.s ago some of
our children, not finding our hunting-grounds wide enough for the
range of their arroAvs, left us. They tir.st Avandered in the
south and in the heautifiil prairies of the ea.st, under a climate
blessed hy the good spirits. They grew and grew in mimher.s
till their families A\'ere as numei’ous as ours, and as they Avert*
warrior.s and their hearts big, they spread themselves, and,
soon cro.s.sing the big mountains, their eagle glance saw on each
side of their territory the salt-water of the sun-rise and the salt¬
water of the sun-set. These are the Comanches, a powo.rful na¬
tion. The Comanches even noA\'^ have a Shoshone heart, a Shos¬
hone tongue. Owato Wanisha has been with them; he say.s tliey
are friends, and have not forgotten that 1 hey are the childr(*n of the
Great Serpent.

“Long, long while afterward.s, yet not long enough that it should
escape the memory and tlie retards of our holy men, some otlier of
our children, hearing of the power of the Comanches, of their
AA'calth, of their beautiful country, determined also to leave ns and
spread to the south. These* are tlie Apache.s. From tin; top of the
big mountains, always covered with .snow, they look tOAvards the
bed of the sim. They s(*e the green grass of the prairie below
them, and afar the blue salt-water. Their houses are as numfTOus
as the stars in heaven, their AA^arriors as thick as the shells in the
bottom of our lakes. They are brave; they arc: fc'ared by the Pale¬
faces—^by all; and they, too, know that wo arc their fathers; their
tongue is our tongue; their Manitou our Manitou, their heart a
portion of our heart; and never has the knife of a Sho,shone drunk
the blood of an Apache, nor the belt of an Apache saspc'ndcd tlm
scalp of a Shoshone.

“And afterwards, again, more of our children left ns. But that
time they left us hecau.se we were* angry. Thc'v AA^ere a fcAV' fami¬
lies of chiefs, who had grown strong and proud. They wished tc»

lord our wip> wains, and we drove them away, as the panther
drivi'.s away her ci/hs, when their daws fXnd t(JOth have been once
turned against her. These are the Arrapaboes. They are strong
and our encanies, yet they are a noble nation. I have in iny lodge
twenty of their scalps; tliey have many of ours. They tight by tlie
broad light of the day, with tlie lance, bows, and arrows; they
seoni treachery. Are they not, although rebels t'lnd mmaturul
children, still tlui children of the iSIioshones? Who ever heard of
the A?*rapaho{‘s (‘ntering the war-path in night? No one! They
are no Crows, no Uinbiquas, no i'lat-heads! They can give death,
they know howto ret‘ei\e it—straight and njiright, knee to knee,
breast to breast, and their lye drinking the glance of their foe.

“Well, these Arrapaboes are onr neighbours; often, very often,
t oo much so (as many of our widon^s can saj’), when they unburj*
their tomahawks and entiT the war-path against the Shoshones.
Why, can two suns light the same prairie, or two male eagles cover
the same nest? No. Yet numerous stars appear during night all
joined togetluT and obedient to the moon, lllackhirds and parrots
will unite their numerous tribes, and take % e same flight to seek
all together a common _rc'st and shelter for a night; it is a law of
nature. The Red-skin knows none but the laws of nature. The
Shoshone is an eagle on the hills, a bright sun on the prairie, so is
an Arrapahoe; they must both .struggle and fight till one sun is
thrown into darkness, or one eagle, blind and winged, falls down
the rocks and leaves the whole nest to its conqueror. The Arrapa-
hoes would not fight a cowardly Crow Except for self-defence, for
he smells of carrion; nor would a Shoshone.

“(’rows, Uinbiquas, and Flat-heads, Cayuses^^onnaxes, and
Callapoos can hunt all together, and rest together; thoy are the
blackbirds and the jiarrots; they must do so, lost the P-agle
should destroy them during the day, or the hedgehog during the
night. ' '

“Now, Ovvato Wanisha, or his Manitou, has offered a bold
thing. 1- have thought of it, I have s]iokcn of it to the spirits of
the Iled-skxn; thoy said it was good; 1 say it is good 1 I am a
chi(‘f of many winters; I know what is good, I know-what is bad!
Shoshones, bear me I my voice is weak, come nearer; hearken to
my words, hist! I hear a whi.spcr under the ripples of the water,
I hear it in the waving of the grass, I fool it on the breeze!—^hist,
it is the whisper of the Master of Life,—hist!”

At this moment the vonorahle chief appeared abstracted, his
fact! flushed; then followed a trance, as if ho were communing
with some invisible‘spirit. Intensely and silently did the warriors
watch tlie struggles of his noble features; the time had come in
which the minds of the Shoshones were freed of their prejudices,
and dared to contemplate the prospective of a future general

92 TllAVELS \KD iVBVENTUHES OV

domination over the western continent of America. The old chief
raised his hand, and he spoke ap;ain;—

“Children, for you are my children! Warriors, for you are all
hravel Chiefs, for you arc all chiefs! I have seen a vision. It
was a cloud, and the Manitou was upon it. The cloud gave way,
and behind T saw a va.st nation, large cities, rich wigwams, strange
boats, and great parties of warriors, whose trail w'as so long that
I could not see the heginning nor the end. It was in a country
which I felt within me w’as extending from the north, where
all is ice, down to the south, where all is fire! Then a big
voice was heard! It was not a war-whoop, it was not the yell
of the fiends, it was not the groan of the captive tied to the
stake; it wa.s a voice of glory that shouted the name of the
Shoshones—for all were Shosliones. There wen? no Pale-face.s
among thorn,—none*! Ovvato Wanisha was there, but he had a red
skin, and his hair was black; so were his two fathers, but they
were looking young; so .was his aged and humble friend, but his
limbs seemed to have recovered all the activity and vigour of
youth; so were his t\|^ young friends, who have fought so bravely
at the Post, when the cowardly Umbiquas entered our groutids.
This is all that I have heard, all that I have seen; and the whis¬
per said to me, as the vision faded away, ‘ Lose no time, old chief,
the day has come! Say to thy warriors, Listen to the young Pale¬
face. The Great Spirit of the Red-skin will pass into his breast,
and lend him some words that the Shoshone will understand.'

“I am old and feeble; I am tired; a>*i.so, my grand.son Owato
Waiiisha; speak to my warriors; tell them the wishes of the
Great Spirit, ^have spoken.”

Thus called upon, I advanced to ihe place which the chief had
loft vacant, and spoke in my turn;—

“Shoshones, fathers, brothers, warriors—I am a Pale-face, but
you know all my heart is a Shoshone’s. I am young, but no more
a child. It is but a short time since that I was a hunter; since
tliat time the Manitou has made me a warrior, and led me among
strange and distant tribes, where he taught me what I .should do
to render the Shoshones a great people. Hear my words, for
I have hut one tongue; it is the tongue of my heart, and in my
heart now dwells the Good Spirit. Wonder not, if I assume the
tone of command to give orders; the orders I will give are tlie
Manitou’s,

“ The twelve wisest hea<ls of the Shoshones will go to the Arrap-
hoes. With them they will take presents; they will take ten sons
of chiefs, who have themselves led men on the war-path; they will
ta^ce ten young girls, fair to look at, daughters of chiefs, whose
voices are soft as the warbling of the birds in the fall. At the great
council of ihe Arraphoes, the ten girls will be offered to ten great

MONSLBUn VIOLET.

93

chiois, and ten great chiefs will oflFer their own daughters to our ten
young warriors; they will offer peace for ever; they will exchange
all the scalps, and they will say that their fathers, the Shoshones,
will once more open their arms to their brave children. Our best
hunting-ground shall be theirs; they will fish the salmon of our
►rivers; they will be Arrapahoes Shoshones; we will become
Shoshones Arrapahoes. I have already sent to the settlement of
the 'W^tehinangoos my ancient Pale-face friend of the stout heart
and Treen eye; .shortl}'^ we will see at the Post a vessel with arms,
ammunition, and presents for the nation. I will go myself with a
party of warriors to the prairies of the Apaches, and among the
Comanches. ^

“ Yet I hear within me a stout voice, which I must obey. My
grandfather, the old chief, has said he should be no more a chief.
It w'as wrong, very wrong; the Manitou is angry. Is the buffalo
less a buffalo when he grows old, or the eagle less an eagle wham an
hundred winters have whitened his wings ? No 1 their nature can¬
not change, not more than that of a chief, and that chief, a chief of
the Shoshones! ^

“ Owato Wanisha will remain what he is; he is too young to be
the great chief of the whole of a gi'cat nation. His wish is good,
but his wisdom is of yesterday; he cannot rule. To rule belongs
to those who have deserved doing so, by long experience. No I
Owato Wanisha will lead his warriors to the war-path, or upon
the trail of the buffalo; he will go and talk to the grandchildren of
the Shoshones; more he cannot do!

“ Let now the squaws prepare the fare well meal, and make ready
the green paint; to-morrow I shall depart with fifty of my youug
men. 1 have spoken."

Tlie council being broken up, I had to pass through the ceremony
of smoking the pipe and shaking hands with those who could call
themselves warriors. On the following morning, fifty magnificent
horses, richly caparisoned, were led to the lawn before the council
lodge. Fifty warriors soon appeared in their gaudiest dresses, all
armed with the lance, bow, and lasso, and rifle suspended across
the shoulder. Then there was a procession of all the tribe, divided
into two bands, the first headed by the chiefs and holy men, the
other by the young virgins. Then the dances commenced; the
elders sang their exploits of former days, as an example to their
children; the young men exercised themselves at the war-post; and
the matrons, wdves, mothers, or sisters of the travellers painted
their faces with green and red, as a token of the nature of their
mission. When this task was performed, the whole of the procession
again formed their ranks, and joined in a chorus, asking the Manitou
for success, and bidding us farewell. I gave the signal: all my men
sprung up in their saddles, and the gallant little band, after having

94 I'RAVELS AND ADYENTmiES ()1

rode twice round the council lodge*, galloped away into the prairie.

Two days after us another pai'ty was to start for the country of
the Arraphoes, with the vie^v of effecting a reconciliation between
our two tribes.

cuArTEii xvr.

At this time, the generally bright prospects (»f Californi^w'^erc
clouding over. (Irc.at changes had taken plact* in the IVOTicau,
government, new individuals had sprung into power, and their
followers wer(! recomiiensed with dignities and offices. But, as
those office^ had been already lilled by others, it uas necessary to
remove the latter, and (sonsequently the gov(‘rnment had made
itself more enemies.

Stieh was the case in (''alifornia; but that the reader may undcr-
staiffl the events which are to follow, it is necessary to draw a brief
sketch of the country. I have aln'ady said that (California ('iri-
braces four hundred miles of sea-coast upon the Pacific ()e('a.n. On
the east, it is houndc^by the Califimiian Oulf, forming, in fact, a
long peninsula. The only Avay of aiTiving at it by land, from Llu'
interior of Mexico, is to travel many hundred miles north, across
the wild deserts of Sonora, and tlmough tribes of Indians which,
from the earliest records down to our days, have alw’ays been
hostile to the Spaniards, and of course, to the Mexicans. Yet far
as California is—^too tar, indeed, for the government of Mexico to
sufficiently protect it, either tiom Indian inroads or from the depre¬
dations of pirates, by which, inueod, the coast has much suffered—
it does not prevent the Mexican govenunent from exacting taxes
from the various settlements; taxes enormous in thenrselvcs, and
so onerous', that they will ever prevent these countries from be¬
coming what they ought to he, under a hestter governm(*nt.

The most northerly establishment of Mexico on the Pacific Ocean
i.s San Francisco; the next, Monterey; tlien comes San Barbara,
St. Luis Obispo, Buona Ventura, and finally, St. Diego; besides
these sea-ports, are many cities in the interior, such <as St. Juan
(’ampestrano, Los Angelos, the largest town in (’alilbrnia, and San
Gabriel. Disturbances ajnsing from th<‘ ignorance and venality of
the Mexican dominion, very ofti'U happen in those regions; new
individuals are continually appointed to rule them; and these indi¬
viduals are generally men of broken foi’tunes and dospt'rate cha¬
racters, whose extortions become so iutok'rable, that at last, the
Californians, in spite of their lazy disposition, rise upon their petty
tyrants. Such was now the case at Monterey. A now governor
had awived; the old General Moreno had, under false pretexts,
been dismissed, and recalled to the central department to answer
to many charges preffirred against him.

WONSIEUH VIOLET.

95

1 'Jie now governor, a libertine of tlie lowest class of the people,
Iifilf monk and half soldier, who had carved his waytln-ou»h the
Viorld by murder, rapine, and abject submission to his superiors,
soon began to stretch an iron hand over the town’s people. The
Moritereyans will l)ear much, yet und('r their apparent docility and
moral apathy there lurks a hro whieii, once excited, pours fortii
Haines of destruction. Moreover, Ihi* foreigners, cstahlished in
Monterey, had for a long time, enjoyed privileges which they were
not #illing to reliiicpiish; and as tiicy were, generally speaking,
wealthy, they enjoyed a certain degree of inlluence over the lower
classes of the Mexicans.

Immediatcily after the first extortion of the new governor, the
population rose and disarmed the garrison. The jiresidio was
occupied hy the insurgents, and the tyrant was happy to escape oft
hoard an Englisli vcissel, hound to Acapulco.

However, on this occasion, the Monterejjans did not break their .
fealty to the IMexican government; they wanted justice, and they
took it into tluir own liauds. One of the most affluent citizens
was unanimously selected as temporary governor till another
should arrive, and they returned to their usual pleasures and
apathy, just as if notliing extraordinary had happened. The name
of the governor thus driven away was Fonseca. Knowing well
that siiec(jss alone could have justified his emiduct, he did not
attiunpt to return to Mexico, but meeting with some pirates, at
that time ravaging the coasts in the neighbourhood of Guatimala,
he joined them, and, excited hy revenge and cupidity, ho conceived
the idea of (lonquering California for himself. Ho succeeded in
enlisttniing into his service some J 50 vagabonds from all parts of
the earth—^runaway sailors, escaped criminals, and, among the
iinmher, some forty Sandwich Islanders, brave and de.sperate fel¬
lows, who were allured with the hopes of plunder.

1 may as well mention here, that there is a great number of
tliese Sandwich Islanders swarming all along the coast of Califor-
ni!i, between which and the Sandwich Islands a very smart trade
is (tarried on by the natives and ttu' Americ*ans. The vessels em¬
ployed to perform the voyage are always doubly manned, and
once on tlie shores of (California, usually half of the crew deserts.
Accustomed to a warm climate and a life of indolence, they fifad
th(*rnselves perfectly comfortable and happy in the new country.
They imgagc.* theinselv(‘s now and then as journeymen, to fold the
hides, and, with their earnings, they pass a life of inebriety, singu¬
larly contrasting with the w(ill-known ahsteiniousnoss of the
Spaniards. Such men had Fonseca taken into his service, and
having seized upon a small store of-arms and ammunition, he pre¬
pared for his expedition.

In the meanwhih^ the governor of Senora, having been apprized

96 Ttt\V£LS AND ADVUNTLIIKS OF

of the movements at Monterey, took upon himself to punish tho
outbreak, imagining that his zeal would be highly applauded by
the Mexican government. Just at this ])eriod, troops having come
from Chihuahua, to quell an insurrection of the conqxiercd Indians,
he took the field in person, and advanced towards California.
Leaving tho cx-governor Fonseca and tho governor of Sonora for a
while, I shall return to my operations among tho Indians.

I have stated, that upon the resolution of the Shoshones to unite
the tribes, I had despatched my old servant to Monterey*, and
Gabriel to the nearest Apache village. This last had found a
numerous party of that tribe on the waters of the Colorado of the
west, and was coming in the direction which I had myself talson^’
accompanied by the whole party. We soon mot; the Apaches
heard with undeniable plcasunj the propositions 1 made unto them,
and they determined that one hundred of their chiefs and xvarriors
should accompany me on my return to the Shoshones, in order to
arrange wdth tiio elders of the tribe the compacts of the treaty.

On onr return we passed through the Arrapahoes, who had
already received my messengers, and had accei)ted as well as
given the brides, which were to consolidate an indissoluble union.
As to the Comanchos, seeing the distance*, and the time which
must necessarily be lost in going and returning, I postponed my
embassy to them, until the bonds of union between the three
nations, Shoshones, Apaches, and Arrapahoes, should be so firnxly'
cemented as not to he broken. The Arrapahoes followed tlie ex¬
ample of the Apaches, and a hundred warriors, w^ell mounted and
equipped, joined us to go axid see their fathers, the Shoshones, and
smoke with them the calumet of ottmal peace.

We were now a gallant hand, two humlred and fifty strong, and
in order to find game sufliciout for tiie subsistence of so many
individuals, we were obliged to take a long range to the soutli, so
as to fall upon the prairies bordering the Buoiia Ventura. (Jhance,
however, led us into a struggle, in which I became afterwards
deeply involved. Scarcely had w'e reached the river, when vve met
with a company ol fiftei*n individuals, composed of some of my old
Monterey friends. They wx'ro on their w^ay to the set!lament, to
ask my help against the governor of Senora, and tho Indians being
all unanimous in their desire to eliastist* him, and to acquire the
good-will of the wealthy peojjle of Monterey, I yielded to circum¬
stances, and altered our course to the south. My old servant had
come with the deputation, and Irom him I learnt the whole of tlie
transaction.

It appears that the governor of Sonora declared, that he would
whip like dogs, and hang the best part of the population of Monte¬
rey, principally the Anglo-Saxon settlers, the property of whom he
intended to confiscate for his own private use. If he could but

MONS113UB VIOr-ET.

97

have kept his owu counsel, he Avould of a certainty have succeeded,
hut the Montereyans wore aware of his intentions, even before he
liacl reached the borders of California.

Deputations Avere sent to the neighbouring towns, and imme¬
diately a small body of determined men started to occupy the
passes through which the governor had to proceed. There they
learnt with dismay, that the force they would have to contend with
was at least ten times more numerous than their own; they were
two hravc, however, to retire without a blow in defence of their
independence, and remembering the intimacy contracted with me,
together with the natural antipathy of the Indians against the
Watchinangoes, or Mexicans, they determined to ask our Jielp,
offering in return a portion of the wealth they could command, in
(!attlo, arms, ammunition, and other articles of great value among >
savages.

The governor’s array amomited to five hundred men, two hun¬
dred of them soldiers in uniform, and the remainder half-bred
stragglers, fond of pillage, hut too cowardly to fight for it. It was
agreed that 1 and ray men, being on horseback, should occupy the
prairie, where we could conceal ourselves in an ambush. The Mon¬
tereyans and their friends were to give way at the approach of the
governor, as if afraid of disputing the ground, and then, Avhen the
Avhole of the hostile army should be in full pursuit, we were to
charge them in flank, and put them to rout. All happened as was
anti ciliated; aa^^o mustered about three hundred and fifteen men,
acting under one single impulse, and sanguine as to success. On
came the governor Avith his heroes.

A queer sight it was, and a noisy set of fellows they were; never¬
theless, Ave could see that they were rather afraid of meeting with
opposition, for they stopped at the foot of the hill, and perceiving
some eight or ten Montereyans at the top of the pass, they de¬
spatched a white flag, to see if it were not possible to make some
kind of compromise. Our friends pretended to be much terrified,
and retreated down towards the prairie. Seeing this, our oppo¬
nents became very brave. They marched, galloped, and rushed on
without order, till they were fairly in our power; then we gave
the war-whoop, which a thousand echoes rendered still more
terrible.

Wc fired not a bullet, Ave shot not an arrow, yet we obtained a
signal victory. Soldiers and stragglers threAv themselves on the
ground to escape from death, Avblle the governor, trusting to his
horse’s speed, darted away, to sua'c himself. Yet his cowardice
cost him his life, for his horse tumbling doAAm, he broke hi.s necl".
Thus perished th€‘ only victim of this campaign.

AVe took the guns and ammunition of our vanquished oppo¬
nents, leaving them only one fusil lor every ten men, with a num.»

G

THAVEIjS AMJ A1>VENTUKIC8 OV

ber of cartridges suiBicieul to provviit tbeir starving on tkeir
return home. Their leader was buried where he had. fallen, and
thus ended this inoek engagement. Yet another battle was in be
fought, which, though successful, did not terminate in quite so
ludicrous a mjinner.

By this time Fonseca was coasting along the shore, but tlio south¬
easterly winds preventing him from making Monterey, he entered
the Bay of St. Francisco. This settlement is very rich, its popula¬
tion being composed of the descendants of English and American
merchants, who had acquired a fortune in the Pacitic trade; it is
called Verba buena (the good grass), from the beautiful meadows
of wi\d clover which extend around it for hnndrc;ds of miles.

There Fonseca had landed Avith about two hundred rascals of his
4 )wn stamp, and his first act of aggr(3S.sion hadbei-n to plunder ami
destroy the little city. The inhabitants of course lied in every
direction; and on mooting us, they promised the Indians half <)f
the articles which had been plundered from them, if we r-ould
overpower the invaders and rocapturci them. I det<Tmmod to sur¬
prise the raseals in the midst of their revellings. I divided my
little army into three bands, giving to Gabriel the cotnmand of tlie
Apaches, with orders to occupy the shores of the bay and destroy
the boats, so that the pirates should not escape to their v<'ssels.
The Arrapahoes were letY. in the prairie around the city to inli'i-cept
those who might endeavour to escape by land. Th(j third party I
commanded myself. It consisted of fifty m ell-armed Shoshones and
fifty-four Mexicans fi-om the coa,st, almost all of them sons of Eng¬
lish or American settlers.

Early in the morning we entered into Avhat had been, a few days
before, a pretty little to urn. It was now nothing but a heap of
ruins, among which a few tents had been spread for night shelter.
The sailors and pirates were all tii)sy, scattered here and there on
the ground, in profound sleep. The Santlwichcrs, collected in a
mass, lay near the tents. Near them stood a large pile of boxes,
kegs, bags, &c.; it was the plunder. We should have undoubtedly
seized upon the brigands without any bloodshed, had not the bark¬
ing of the dogs awakened the Sandwichers, who were up in a mo¬
ment. They gave the alarm, seized their arms, and closed fiercely
and desperately with my left Avmg, whii:h was composed of the
white men.

These suffered a great deal and broke their ranks; but I
wheeled round and surrounded the fellows with my Shoshones,
who did not even use their rifles, tlu! lance and tomahawk perform¬
ing their deadly work in silence, and with such a despatch, that in
ten minutes but few of the miscrjible islanders lived to complain of
their wounds. My Mexicans, having rallied, seized upon Fonseca,
and destroyed many of the pirates in their beastly state of intoxi-

AKj.^tiiEijn loKE r.

9'J

cjitfoii. Only a ft‘W attempted t(t tlie f^reatcr number stagger¬
ing towards tJio beaeli to seek sliel<(>r in their boats. But the
Apaches had alromly performed their d^ity; the smallest boats
t hey had dragged on shon', tlic largest they liad scuttled and sunk.
Cliarging upon the miserable fugitives, th(*y transfixed them with
their spears, and our victory was eoinideU'. Tlie pirates remain¬
ing on board the two v(5ssels, percohdng how matters stood, saluted
us with a few disc-liarg('s of grape and eamiLster, whudi did no exe¬
cution; the sailors, being almost; all of tliein runaway Yankees,
w'cre in all probability as drunk as tbeir companions on shore. At
last they succeeded in heaving up tlieir aiiehors, and, favoured by
the land-breeze, tliey soon cleared the bay. Since that time
nothing has been heard of them.

I’oiiseca, noAv certain of his fate', prov<d, to bo as mean and*
cowardly as he had been tyrannical before his defeat. lie made
me many splendid oilers if f would but let him go and try his for¬
tune elsew hert'. S(!eing bow much I despised him, he turned to the
iSlexicans, and tr1('d them one and all; till, finally, perceiving that
lie had no hop<‘ of mercy, he bc'gan to blaspheme so horribly that
I w^as obliged to order him to bo gagged.

Th(i next morning tevo companies arrived from Monterey, a
council was convened, tw'cnty of the citizens forming themselves
into a jury. Fonseca wa.s tried and condemned, both as a traitor
and a pirate'; and, as shooling would have been too gi’cat an
honour for such a wretch, he was liangi.'d in company with tlie few
stirvi ving Sandvviehers.

Our party liad sutforc'd a little in the' beginning of the action;
three Moxkams hud been killed and eighteen wounded, as Avell as
two Apaehos. Of my Shoshones, not one received the smallest
scrat(‘h; and the Arrapahoes, who liad been left to scour the prairie,
joined us a short time after the battle with a few^ scalps.

The peopie of San Francisco were true to their promise; the
rescued booty w'as divided into two equal parts, one of wdiich was
nllered to the Indians, as had b(*en agreed upon. On the eve of
our dojiarture, presents wire made to us as a token of gratitude,
and of course the [ndians, having at the first moment of their con¬
federation, made such a succe.s.sful and profitable eispedition, ac-
I'cpled it as a, good jiresuge for the futm'c. Their services being no
longer required, they t.urned towards the north, and started for
t he settlement undir the cpmmand of Koche, to fofiow' up their
original intention of visiting the Syioshon.es. As for me, I re¬
mained behind at Ran Francisco.

100

IISAVIILS A>T) ADVKNTnilES OF

■ (71 AFTER XVIL

Up to the present portion of my narrative, I had lived and kept
company with Indians, and a few white men who had eonlormed
to their manners and customs. I had seen nothing of civilized
life, except during my sliort sojourn at Monterey, one (»f the last
places in the world to give you a true knowledge of mankind. I
was, as all Indians are, until they have been decei\’od and outraged,
frank, conttding, and honest. I knenv that I could trust ray
Shoshones, and I thought that 1 could put confidence in those who
were Christians and more ciA'ilizcd. 13ut the reader must recollect
that I was hut nineteen years of jige, and had been brought up as a
Shoshone. My youthful ardour had been much inflamed by our
late successful conflict,-!. Had T contented myself witl^ cementing
the Indian confederation I should liave don<‘ well, but ray ideas
now went ranch farthi^r. The ciroumsiances which had just oc¬
curred raised in ray mind the project of rendering the whole of
CaUfc>rnia independent, and it was ray ambition to become tlu'
liberator of the country.

Aware of the great resources <)f the t(unfltory, of the impassable
barriers presented to any large body of men who would invade it
from the central parts of Mexico, the more I reflected, the more 1
was convinced of the foasihiliiy of tiw' imdertjilving.

I represented to the Californians at San Francisco that, under
existing circumstances, they would not bo able succ<’ssfully to
oppose any force which the government might send by sea from
Acapulco; I pointed out to them that their rulers, too happ}' in
having a pretext for plundering them, would show them no mercy,
after what had taken place; and 1 then n'presented, that if they
vs'cre at once to declare their independences and open their poi’ts to
strangers, they would, in a short lime, become sufficiently wealthy
and powerful to overthrow any expedition that might he fitted out
against tlu'm. I also proposed, as they had no standing troops, to
lielp them with a thousand warriors; but if so, I expected to h;ive
a share in the new gov<'rnracnt that should be established. My
San Francisco friends heard me with attention, and I could se('
they approved the idea; yet there were only a few from among the
many who spoke out, and they would not give any final answer,
until they had confeiTe<l vuitli tluur countrymen at Monterey.
Tljey pledged their honour that, immediately on tlieir arrival in
tliatcity, they would canvass the Imsine.ss, despatch messengers to
the southern settlements, and let me know' the result.

As it was useless for me to return to the .seUleinent before 1
knew their deeision, I resolved ui)on taking up my re.sidoncc at one

MONSIEUR VIOLET. 101

of the missions on tho hay, under the charge of some jolly Francis¬
can monks.

In the convent, or mission, I passed my time pleasantly; the
good fathtjrs were all men of sound education, as, indeed, they all
are in JMexico. The holy fathers were more than willing to sepa¬
rate California from the Mexican government; indeed, they had
many reasons for their disafFeqtion; government had robbed them
of their property, and had lovic'd nearly 200 per cent, upon all
articles of Californian produce and manutiicture. Moreover, when
they sold their furs and hides to the foreign traders, they were
bound to give one-half of the receipts to the government, while the
other half was already reduced to an eighth, hy the Me|jican
process of charging 200 per cent, duty upon all goods landed on the
shore. They gave me to understand that the missions would, if,
necessary for my success, assist me with 15,20, nay, 30,000 dollars.

1 had a pleasant time with these padres, for they were all
hon vhants. Their cellars were well filled with Constantia wine,
their gardens highly cultivated, their poultry fat and tender, and
thou* game always had a particular flavour. IlaTl 1 remained
there a few months more, I might have taken the vows myself, so
well did that lazy, comfortable life agree Avith my taste; hut the
Californians had been as active as they had promised to b<', and
their emissaries came to San Francisco to settle the conditions un¬
der which I was to-lend my aid. Events were thickening, there
was no r(itreat for me, and I prepared for action.

After a hasty, though hearty farewell, to my pious and liberal
entertainers, I returned to the settlement, to prepare for the
opening of the drama which would lead some of us either to abso¬
lute power or to the scaffold.

Six Aveeks after my quitting San Francisco, I Avas once more in
the Field tind ready for an encounter against the troops despatched
from St. Miguel of Senora, and other central garrisons. On hear¬
ing of the defeat of tlie two governors, about 120 Californians,
from Monterey and San Francisco, had joined my forces, either
excited by their natural martial spirit, or probably with vieAvs of
ambition similar to mv own.

T had with mo 1,200 Indians, well equipped and AA'ell mounted;
but, on this occasion, my own Shoshones were in greater numbers
than our new allies. They numbered 800, forming two squadrons,
and their discipline was such as would have been admired at the
military parades of Europe. Besides them, I had 300 Arrapahoes
and 100 Apa^ches.

As the impending contest assumed a character more serious than
our two preceding skirmishes, I made some alteration in the com¬
mand, taking under ray oaa’u immediate orders a body of 250
Shoshones and the Mexican company, who had brought four small

102 I'iiAVELS ANJD ADVCNTUliEiS Ol

field-pieces. The remainder of iny Indians were subdivided iido
squadrons of 1(K), commanded by tiioir own respective chiefs.
Gabriel, Koebe, and rny old servant, Avith tuo or three clever
young C'lalifornia.ns, I kept about me as aides-do-cainp. "We ad¬
vanced to the pass, and found the enemy encamped on tlu* plain
below. "We made our dispositions; our artillery was well posted
behind breast-works, in almost an impregnable position, .a few
miles below the pass, where wc had already defeated the governor
of Senora. We found ourselves in presence of an enemy inferior
in number, but well disciplined, and tlie owners of lour field-pieces
heavier than ours. They amounted to about 9.'i0, 300 of which
were cavalry, and the remainder light infantry, with a small com-
pan|^ of artillery.

^ Of course, in our hilly position, our caA airy could he of no us(>,
and as to attacking them in the plain, it Avas too dangerous to
attempt ilj» as we had but 000 rifles to oppose to their superior
armament and military discii)Une. Had it been in a wood, where
the Indians could have been under cover of trees, aa o Avould liavc
given the wdl-whoop, and destroyed them without allowing them
time to look about thtm; but as it was, having dismenmted tlu‘
Apaches, and feeling pretty cortaiji of f lie natural strcngtli of our
position, we determined to remain quiet, till a false movement or
a hasty attack from the emiiny should give us the opportimity of
crashing them at a blow.

I was playii^g now for high stakes, and the exuberaney of spirit
which had formerly accompanied my actions had deserted me, and
1 was left a prey to <iare, and I must confe s, to suK])icion; hut it
was too late to retrace my sfeps, and moreover, I was too proud
not to hnisli what I had begun, even if it should be at the expetise
of ray life. Happily, tlie kindness and friendship of Gabriel and
Roche tlirew a brighter hue upon my thoughts; in them 1 knew I
possessed two friends who would never desert me in misfortune,
Avhatever they might do in prosperity; wo had so long lived and
hunted together, shared the same pleasures and the same priva¬
tions, that our hearts were linked by the strongest ties.

The commander who opposed us was an old and experienced
officer, and certainly wo should have had no chance Avith him had
he not been one of those individuals who, having been appreciated
by the former government, was not in great favour with, or even
trusted, by the present one. Being the only able officer in the lar
west, he had of a necessity been intrusted with this expedition,
hut only rfe nomine; in fact, he had with him agents ofth§ government
to watch him, and who took a decided pleasure in counteracting all
his views; they were yomig men without any kind of experience,
whose only merit consisted in their being more or less related to
the members of the existing government. Every one of them wished

monsiEuk violet.

103

to act as a general, looking upon the old commander as a mere
convenience upon whom they could throw all the responsibility in
case of defeat, and from whom they intended to steal the laurels,
if any were to be obtained.

This commander's name was Martinez; he had fought well and
stoutly against tho Spaniards during the war of Iridependencfe; but
that was long ago, and his services had been forgotten. As he had
acted purely from patriotism, and was too stem, too proud, and too
honest to turn courtier and bow to upstarts in power, he had left
the halls of Montezuma with disgust; consequently he had remained
unnoticed, advancing not a step, used now and then in time of
danger, but neglected when no longer required. ^

I could plainly perceive how little unity there was profiling
among the leaders of our opponents. Sometimes the position oj"
the army showed superior military genius, at others the infantry
were exposed, and tho cavalry performing useless evolutions. It
was evident that two powers were struggling with each other; one
endeavouring to maintain regular discipline, the other following
only the impulse of an unsteady and overbearing temper. This
discovery, of course, rendered me somewhat more confident, and
it was with no small pride I reflected that in iny army I alono
commanded.

It was a pretty sight to look at my Shoshones, who already
understood the strength gained by simultaneous action. The
Apaches, too, in their frequent encounters with th^cgular troops,
liad acquired a certain knowledge of cavalry tactics. All tho
travellers in IVlexico who have met with these intrepid warriors
have wondered at their gallant and uniform hearing. The Califor¬
nians also, having now so much at stake, had assumed a demeanour
quite contrary to their usual indolent natures, and their confidenoe
in me was much increased since our success against Fonseca, and
the comparison they could now make between the disposition and
arran{?ement of the opposed forces. So elated, indeed, were they
and so positive of success, that they frequently urged me to an
immediate attack. But I had determined upon a line of conduct
to which I adhered.

The Arrapahoes showed themselves a little untnly^i brave, And
such excellent hors(‘meii as almost to realize the fable of the
Centaurs, charging an enemy with the impetuosity of lightning, and
disappearing with the quickness of thought; they requested me
every moment to engage, hut I knew too well the value of regttlar
infantry, and how ineffectual would be the efforts of light daValry
against their bayonets. 1 was obliged to restrain their ardotir by
every argument I could muster, principally by giving them to
understand that by a hasty attack we should certainly loose the
booty.

104

TnAVELS AND adventuhes or

The moment came at last. The prudence of the old commander
having been evidently overruled by his ignorant eoadjiitoivs, the
infantry were put in motion, Hanked on oiu' side by the cavalry
and on the other by the artill(*ry. It was, indeed, a pitiful move¬
ment, for which they paid dearly. I despatched thh Arrapahoos
to out-flank and <.‘harge the cavalry of the enemy when a signal
should be made; the Apaches slowly descended the hill in face of
the infantry, upon wiiich w^e opened a destructive fire Avith our four
field-pieces.

The infantry behaved well; they never flinched, hut stood their
ground as brave soldiers should do. The signal to charge w'as
given to the Arrapahoes, and at that moment the Shoshones, w'ho
till had remained inactive with me on the hill, started at full
gallop to th(‘ir appomted dul 3 \ The charge of the Arrapahoes was
^ajiid and terrific, and when the smoke and dust had cleared away,
I perceived them in the plain a mile off, driving before them the
Mexican cavalrj', reduced to half its nurabc'r. The Shoshones, by
a rapid movement, had broken through between the infantry and
artillery, forcing the artillerymen to abandon their pieces; then
closing their ranks and wheeling, they attacked fiercely the riglit
flank (ff the infantry.

Wlien I gave the signal to the Arrapahoes to charge, the Apaches
quickened their speed, and charged the enemy in front; but they
were checked by the running fire of the well-disciplinod troops, and
in spite of thei^etermmatiou and gallantry, they found in the Mexi¬
can bayonets a rarrier of steel which them lances could not penetrate.

The cliances, however, were stilt ours: the Mexican artillery wa.s
in our power, their cavalry dispersed and almost out of sight, and
the infantry, though admirably disciplined, was very hardly pressed
both in flank and in front. At this juncture I sent Gabriel to
bring hack the Arrapahoes to the scene of the conflict, for I knew
that the Mexican cavaky would never form again until they had
reached tlie borders of Senora. Of course, the coadjutors of Mar¬
tinez had disappeared with the fugitive cavtalry, leaving the old
general to regain the lost advantage and to bear the consequences
of their own cowardice and folly.

Now^ left i||(aster of his actions, this talentenl officer did not yet
despair ot success. IJy an admirable manoeuvre he thrtjw his in¬
fantry into two divisions, so as to check both bodies of cavalry until
he could form them into a solid square, which, charging with impe¬
tuosity through the Shoshones, regained possession of their pieces
of artillery, after which, retreating slowly, they succeeded in
reaching, without further loss, the ground which they had occupied
previous to their advance, which, from its more broken and uneven
nature, enabled the infantry to resist a chargejof cavalry with con¬
siderable advantage.

BfONSXEUB VIOLET.

105

This manoeuvre of the old general, which extricated his troops
from their dangerous position and recovered his field-pieces, had
also the advantage of rendering our artillery of no further service,
as we could not move them down the hill. As the battle was still
to be fought, I resolved to attack them before they had time to
breathe, and while they were yet panting and exhausted with their
recent exertions.

Till then the Californians had been merely spectators of the con-
flict. I now put myself at their head cUid charged the Mexicans'
square in froni, while the Shoshones did the same on the left, and
the Apaches on the right.

Five or six times were we repulsed, and we repeated the charge,
the old commander everywhere giving directions and encoiiraging
his men. Roche and I were both wounded, fifteen of the Califor-
nians dead, the ranks of the Shoshones much thinned by the
uncea^g fire of the artillery, and the Apaches were giving way in
confusion. I was beginning to doubt of success, when Gabriel,
having succeeded in recalling the Arrapahoes from their pursuit of
the fugitive cavalry, re-formed them, made a furious charge upon
the Mexicans on the only side of the square not already assailed,
and precisely at the moment when a last desperate effort of the
Shoshones and my own body of (Californians had thrown the ranks
opposed to us into confusion.

The brave old commander, perceiving he could no longer keep his
ground, retreated slowly with the intention of gating the rugged
and broken ground at the base of the mountains behind him, where
our cavalry could no longer assail him.

Perceiving his intention, and determining, if possible, to prevent
his retreat, the Arrapahoes having now rejoined us, we formed into
one compact body and made a final and decisive charge, which
proved irresistible. We broke through their ranks and dispersed
them. For a time my command and power ceased; the Indians
were following their own custom of killing without mercy, and
scalping the dead. One-half of the enemy were destroyed, but
Martinez succeeded with the remainder in reaching his intended
position.

But the Mexican troops consiNred it useless t<3(Jk>nt€nd any
more, and shortly afterwards the old general himself rode towards
us with a flag, to ascertain the conditions under which we wqg^d
accept his surrender. Poor manl He was truly an estimable
ofiicer. The Indians opened their ranks to let him pass, while all
the Californians, who felt for his mortification, uncovered them¬
selves as a mark of respect. The old general demanded a free
passage back to Senora, and the big tears were in his eyes as he
made the proposal. Speaking of his younger associates, he never
used a word to their disparagement, though the slight curl of his

TaAVEliS ADD ADVENT UJtEH Of

106

lip showed plainly how bitter were his feelings; ho knew too that
his fate was sealed, and that he alone w'ould boar the disgrace of
the defbat.

So much was he respected by the Californians, that his request
was immediately granted, upon his assurance that under no circiun-
stance he would return to f’alifomia as a foe. As Martinez de¬
parted, a Shoshone chief, perceiving that his horse was seriously
wounded, dismounted from his OAvn, and addressed him:—

“ Chief of the Watchinangocs, (Mexicans), and brother, brave
warrior!—a Shoshone can honour as well as fight an enemy: take
this horse; it has been the horse of a Ked-skin warrior—^it will be
faithful to tile Pale-face.”

The general bowed upon his saddle, and descended, saying, in a
fgw words, that he now learned to esteem the Indian warriors who
had overpowered him on that fated day both by their gallantry and
generosity. When the Indian proceeded to change the Uddles,
Martinez stopiH'd him:—

“Nay, brother," said he; “keep it with the holsters and their
contents, w^hich are more suitable to a conqueror and a young
warrior than to a vanquished and broken-hearted old man.”,|^

Having said this, he spurred his now horse, and soon rejoined his
men. We returned to the encampment, and tw'o hours afterw^ards
we saw the Mexicans in full retreat towards tlitf rising sun.

That night was one of mourning; our success had been complete',
but dearly purchased. Tl\e Arrapahoes alone had not suffered.
The Apaches had lost thirty men, the Shoshoiu's one hundred ami
twelve, killed and wounded, and the Monterr yans several of their
most respected young citizens. On the following day Ave buried our
dead, and when our task was over, certain that we should remain
unmolested for a considerable tune, we returned to St. Francisco—
the Indians to receive the promised biiunty, and I to make arrange¬
ments for our future movements.

By the. narrative I liave given, the rcadcT may Ipive formed an
accurate idea of what did take place in California. I subsequently
received the Mexican newspapers, containing the account of what
had occurre^ and as these are the organs through which the people
of Europe s(|i enlightened, as to^lie events of these distant regions,
I shall quote the pages, to show how truth may bo perverted:— ,

^Chihuahua.—‘Nkwb oi’thbWmst.—Cvlipousian 11e»ki.lion.— 'ITiisday
HJTived in our city a particular courier from the lilaliop of Senora, bearer of
despatdhes rathisr Important for tije welfare of our government. The spirit of
rebellion hi ^iroad; Texas already has separated from our dominions ; Yucatan
ifi endeavouring to follow the pernicious example, and California has just now
lighted the dainbean of civil war.

" It appears that, excited by the bad advices of foreigners, the inhabitants of
Monterey obliged the gallant governor to le.ave his fire-side. This warlllto
offloer found the means of forwarding despatches to Senora, while he himself,

MONSIEOK Troi-*5T.

107

uniting n handful of brave and faithful citizens, landed in the bay of St, Fran¬
cisco, in order to punish the rebels. By this time the governor of Senora, with
the elite of the corps of the army under his orders, having advanced to bis
lielp, was decoyed into the rebels’ carap under some peaceful pretext, and shame¬
fully murdered.

“ It is yet a glory to thii||j||that even a Mexican rebel could not hive been
guilty of so heinous a crit^ The performer of that cowardly deed was a
Frenchman, In ing among the Indians of the west, who, for the sake of a paltry
sum of gold, came to the aid of the rebels with many thousands of the savages.
His next step was to enter St. Francisco, and there, the horrors he committed
recall to our mind the bloody deed.9 performed in hit, country during the great
revolution. But what could bo exi>ected from a Frenchman ^ Fonseca was
executud ns a malefactor, the city plundered, the booty divided among the red
warriors ; besides an immense sum of money which was levied upon the other
establishments, or, to say better, extorted, upon the same footing as the bucca¬
neers of old.

“ Tiic new'b h,aving reached the central government of the west. General Mift*-
tiftez assumed upon himself the responsibility of an expedition, w'hich, under
the present appearances, showed his want of kflowledge, and his complete igno¬
rance of military tactics. He was met by ten thousand Indians, and a powerful
artillery served by the crews of many vessels upon the coast—vessels bearing
rather a doubtful character. Too late ho perceived his error, hut had not the
gallantry of repairing it and dying as a Mexican should. He fled from the Held
alm|||||iii the licginning of the action, and had it not been tor the desperate
effori^f the cavalry, and truly wonderful military talents displayed by three or
four young olTiccrs who had accompanied him, the small army would have tieen
cut to pieces. W'g nunihered but five hundred men in all, and had but a few
killed and wounded, while the enemy left behind them on the field more than
twelve hundred slain.

“ The gallant young officers would have proceeded to St. Francisco, and fol¬
lowed up thoir contpicst, had the little army been in possession of the necessary
provisions and ammunition, but General Martinez, either from incapacity or
treachery, had omitted those two essejitiai necessaries for an army. We are
proud and happy to say, that Emanuel Bustamente, the young distinguished
officer, of a highly distinguished family, who conducted himself so well in
Yucatan during the last slinggle, commanded the cavalry, and It is to bis skill
that we Mexicans ©we the glory of having saved our flag ftom a deep stain.

“ rostscriptuin.—We perceive that the cowardly and mercenary Martinez has
received the punishment his treachery so well deserves; during his flight he wa-s
met by some Indians and murdered. May Divine Providence thus punish all
traitors to the Mexican government!”

I rpgret fo say that the last paragraph was tru® The bi^ave
Martinez, who had stood to the la,5t, who had faced death in n^y
ha.ltles, had been foully murdered, but not, as was reported,

Indian: he had fallen under the knife of an assassin—but it was a
Mexican who had been bribed to the base deed.

tJp to the present all had prospered. I was called “ The Libe¬
rator, the Protector of California.’' Splendid offers were tnade to
me, and the independence of California would have been sebured,
had I only had two small vessels to reduce the southern sba-port.«,
which had not yet declared themselves, either fearihg the consr-

TKAVJJLS AND ADVENTURES OF

108

quences of a rebellion, or disliking the idt‘a of owing their liberation
to a foreign condottiere, and a large force of savages.

The Apaches returned home with eighty muU'S loaded with their
booty; so did the Arrapahoes with pretty nearly an equal quanlity.
My Shoshones I satisfied with promises, ^nd returned with them to
the settlement, to prepare myself for for^ffomiug events.

A few chapters backwards I mentioned that 1 had dispatched
my old servant to Monterey. He had taken with him a eonsiderar
ble portion of my jewels and gold to make purchases, which were
firmly to establish my powder over the Indian confederacy. A
small schooner, loaded with the goods purchased, started from
Monterey; but never being seen afterwards, it is i)robable that she
fell into the hands of the pirate vessels which escaped Irom San
Francisco.

ft

I liad rcilied upon this cargo to satisfy thi* just demands of my
Indians \ipon my arrival at the settlement. The loss was a sad
blow to mo. The old chief had just died, the power had devolved
entirely upon me, and it w'as necessary, according to Indian cus¬
tom, that 1 should give largess, tand show a great display of liber¬
ality OP my accession to the command of the tribe; so necMj^ry,
indeed, was it, that I delurmined upon returning to Monte^y, by
San Francisco, to provide what was requisite. This step was a
fatal one, as will be shown when I narrate the circumstances which
had ocenred during my absence.

Upon hearing the news of our movements in the west, the Mexi¬
can government, for a I'ew days, sp‘^)ke of nothing but extermination.
The state of affairs, however, caused tliein to think diflercntly;
they had already much w'ork upon their harxds, and California was
very far off. They hit upon a plan, which, if it showed their
weakness, proved their knowledge of human nature. Wliile I was
building castles in the aii*, agents from Mexico pidvately came to
Monterey and decided the matter.

They called together the Americans domiciled at Monterey, who
were the wealthiest and the most inlluential of the inhabitants, and
asked them what it was that they required from the govern¬
ment? Diminution of taxes, answ^ered they. It was agreed.
What next?||Iieduetion of duty on foreign goods. Agreed again.
And next? Some other privileges and dignities. All these were
gMpted.

In return for this liberality, the Mexican agents then demanded
that two or three of the low('r Mexicans should be liung up for an
example, and that the Frenclunan and his two white companions
should be decoyed, and delivered up to the government.

This w^as consented to by these honest domiciliated Americans;
and thus did they arrange to sacrifice me who had done so much
for tiiem. Just as everything had been arranged upon betAvecii them

MONSIEUR VIOLET,

109

anti tho agents, I most unfortunately made my appearance, with
Gabriel and Roche, at the mission at San Francisco. As soon as
they heard of our arriv/il, we were requested to honour them with
our company at a publu: feast, in honour of our success! It was
the meal of Judas. WM^rc all three seized and handed over to
the Mexican agents. jWlnd hand and foot, under an e.scort of
thirty men, the next morning we set ofl' to cross the deserts and
prairies of Senora, to gain the Mexican capital, where we well
knew that a gibbet was to be our fate.

Such was tho grateful return we received from those who had
called us to their assistance.* Sue.h was my first lesson in civilized
life!

CHAPTER XVni.

As circumstances which I have yet to relate have prevented my
return to the Shoshones, and 1 shall have no more to say of their
movements in these pages, I would fain pay them a just tribute
before I continue my narrative. I wish the reader to perceive how
muc^higher the Western Indians are in the scale of humanity
than*he tribes of the east, so well described by Cooper and
other American writers. There is a chivalrous .spirit in these
rangers of the western prairies not bo exceeded in history or
modern times.

The four tribes of Shoshones, Arrapahoes, Comanehes, and
Apaches never att(unpt, like the llahcotah and Algonquin, and
otlu'r tribtis of the east, to surprise an enemy; they take his
scalp, it is ti’ue, h^t they take it in the broad day; neither will they
ever murder the squaws, children, and old men, who may be left
unprotected when the -war-parties are out. In fact, they are ho¬
nourable and noble foes, sincere and trustworthy friends. lu
many points they have the uses of ancient chivalry among them,
so much so as to induce me to surmise that they may have brought
them ov(w with them -udien they first took possession of tho
territory.

Every warrior has his nephew, who is selected as his page; he
performs tho duty of a squire in ancient knight erpautry, takes
charge of his horse, arms, and accoutrements; and he remains in
this ofiice until he is old enough to gain his own spurs. Hawking
is also a favourite amusement, and tho chiefs ride out with ine
falcon or small eagle, on their wrist or shoulder.

Ev('n in th(‘ir wiu’fare, you often may imagine that you were
among the knights of ancient da 3 '^s. An Arrapahoe and a Sho-

* Americans or Europeans wlio -wish to resid® in Mexico, are obliged to
conform to the Catholic religion, or they cannot hold property and become
rowdent merchants. These were tl»e apostates for wealth who betrayed me.

110 T. AND Al>\KNTt!UK.^ VV

\

shone warrior armed with a buckler and thoir long laiufos, will
single out and challenge each of her; they mn a tilt, and as each
has :nrardied off the blow, and passed unhurt, they will courteously
turn back and salute each other, as an acknowledgment of their
enemy’s bravery and skill. When thes<^«j|allenges take place, or
indeed, in any single combat without chl^nge, none of these In¬
diana will take advantage of possessing a superior w^eapon. If
one has a rifle and knows that his opponent has not, ho will throw
his rifle down, and only use the same w^eapon as his adversary.

I will now relate some few traits of character wiiich will prove
the nobility of these Indians.*

Every year, during the season dedicated to tlu' performing of
religious ceremonies, premiums are given by tlie holy men and
e^ers of the tribe to those among the young men who havt; the
most distinguished themselves. The best warrior receives a
feather of the black oa#de; the most successful hunter obtains a
robe of buffalo-skin, painted inside, and representing some of his
most daring exploits; the most virtuous has for his share a
coronet made either of gold or silver; and these premiums are
suspended in their wig^vams as mai’ks of honour, and h^dod
down to their posterity. In fact, they become a kind of icusioyt,
W'hich ennobles a family.

Once during the distribution of these much coveted prizes, a
young man of twenty-tw'O w^as called by the chiefs to receive th(‘
premium of virtue. The Indian advanced towards his chicls,
when an elder of the tribe rising, addressed the whole audience.
He pointed the young man out, as one w'host- example should he
followed; and recorded, among many other praiaeworthy actions,
that three squaws, wdth many children, having been reduced to
misery by the death of their husbands in the last war against the
Crows, this young man, although the deceased were the greatest
foes of his family, undertook to provide for their widows and
children, till the boys, grow'n up, w'^ould be able to provide for
themselves and their mother.s. Since that timf*, he had given them
the produce of his chase, reserving to himself nothing hut what
w'as strictly necessary to sustain tlic W'ants of nature. This was
a noble and virtuous act, one that pleased the Manitou. It was
an example which all the Shoshones should follow.

#re young man bowed, and as the venerable chief was stooping
to put the coronet upon his head, he started back, and, to the as-
tonishmtmt of all, refused the premium.

• There is every pr08||pct of these north-western tribes remaining in their
present primitive state, indeed, of their gradual improvement, for nothing can
Induce them to touirfh spirits. They know that the eastern Indians have been
debased and conquered by the use of them, and consider an offer of a dram from

American trader as an indirect attempt upon their life and honour.

jinKNSiKun vioJj1:t.

Hi

“ t/hiefs, warriors, ciders of the Shoshones, pardon me! You
know the good which I have done, hut you know not in what I
have erred. My first feeling was to receive the coronet, and con-
roal W'hat wrong I had done; but a voice within mj heart forbids
my taking what others In^ perchance better deserved.

“Hoar me, SlioshonesWlie truth must ho told; hear my shame!
One day I was hungry; it was in the great prairies. I had killed
no game, and 3 -was afraid to return among our yonng men wdth
empty hands. I remained four days hunting, and still T saw
neither butfaloes nor bears. At last, I perceived tlie tent of an
Arrapahoe. I went in; there was no one there, and it was full of
well-cured meat. I had not eaten for fi^e days; I w'as hungry,
^and I bocarao a thief. I took away a largo piece, and ran away
like a cowardly W'olf. I have said: the prize cannot be mine."

A murmur ran through the assembly, and the oliiofs, holy men,
and elders consulted tog(‘thor. At last the ani'icnt chief advanced
once more tow'ards the yonng man, and took his tw o hands l>etween
his own. “]My son," lie said, “good, noble, and brave; thy ac¬
knowledgment of thy fault .and self-denial in such a moment make
Ihee as pure as a good spirit in the eyes of the great Manitou.
Evil, when confessed and repented of, is forgotten ; bend tby head,
my son, and let me crown thee. The premium is twice deserved
and twice due.”

A Shoshone warrior possessed a beautiful mare; no horse in. the
jtrairie could outspeed her, and in the. buffalo or bear hunt she
Avould enjoy the sport as much as her master, and run alongside
the huge beast with great courage and spirit. Many propositions
were made to the warrior to sell or excliauge the anlbial, but he
would not hear of it. The dumb brute was his friend, his solo
companion; they had both shared the dsingers of battle and the
privations of prairie tr.aveiling; why .should he part with her?
The fame of that mart‘ extended so far, that in a trip he made to
San Francisco, several Mexicans offered him large sums of money;
nothing, however, could .sliake him in his resolution. In those
countries, though horses may often be purchased at the low price
of one dollar, it often happens that a steed, well knowm as a good
hnnt(!r or a rapid jpacer, will bring sums equal to those paid in
England for a fine race-horse.

One of the Mexicans, a wild young man, resolved to obtain the
mare, whether or no. One evening, when the Indian w'as returning
from some neighbouring plantation, the Mexican laid down in some
bushes at a short distance from the road, and moaned as if in the
greatest pain. The good and kind-heufted Indian having reached
the spot, heard his cries of distress, dismounted from his mare, and
offered any assistance; it was nearly dark, and although he knew
the sufferer to be a Pale-faee, yet he could not distinguish his

llSf TKAVJBIiS AND ADVENTURES or

features. The Mexican be^d for a drop of water, and the Indian
dashed into a neighbouring thicket to procure it for him. As soon
as the Indian was sufficiently distant, the Mexican vaulted upon
the mare, and apostrophed the Indian:—

“ You fool of a Ked-skin, not cunning ^^ugh for a Mexican: you
refused my gold; now I have the mar*br nothing, and I will
make the trappers laugh when I tell them how easily I have out¬
witted a Shoshone.”

The Indian looked at the Mexican for a few moments in silence,
for his heart was big, and the shameful treachery wounded him to
the very core. At last, he spoke:—

“ Pale-face," said he, “ for the sake of others, I may not kiU thee.
Keep the mare, since thou art dishonest enough to steal the only ^
property of a poor man; keep her, but never say a word how thou
earnest by her, lest hereafter a Shoshone, having learned distrust,
should not hearken to the voice of grief and woe. Away, away
with her! Let me never see her again, or in an evil hour the desire
of vengeance may make a bad man of me."

The Mexican was wild, inconsiderate, and not over-scrupulous,
but not ^vithout feeling. He dismounted from the horse, and putting
the bridle into the hand of the Shoshone, “ Brother," said he, “ I
have done wrong, pardon me! From an Indian I learn virtue, and
for the future, when I would commit any deed of injustice I will
think of thee." ‘

Two Apaches loved the same girl; one was a great chief, the
other a young warrior, who had entered the war-path hut a sliort
time. Of course the parents of the young ghl rejected the warrior’s
suit, as soon as the chief proposed himself. Time passed, and the
young man, broken-hearted, left all the martial exercises in which
he had excelled. He sought solitude, starting early in tho morning
from the wigwam, and returning but late in the night, w'hen the
fires were out. The very day on which he was to lead the young
girl to his lodge, the chief went bear-hunting among the hills of the
neighbourhood. Meeting with a grizzly bear, he fired at him; but
at the moment he pulled the trigger his foot slipped, and he fell
down, only wounding the fiierce animal, which now, smarting and
infuriated with pain, rushed upon him.

chief had been hurt in his fall, he was incapable of deft;iice,
and knew that he was lost; he shut his eyes, and waited for his
death-blow, when the report of a rifle, and the springing of the
bear in the agmiies of death, made him once more open his eyes;
he started upon his feet, there lay the huge monster, and nf'ar him
stood the young whrrior wl||| had thus timely rescued him.

The chief reco^ised his rival, and his gratitude overpowering
all <4her feelings, he took the warrior by the hand and graspednt
firmly:—,

MONSIEUIl VIOLET. 143

“Brother,” he saitl, “thou hast saved my life at a time when, it
Avas sweet, more so than usual: let us be brothers.”

The young man’s breast lieaved with contending passions, but he,
too, was a noble fellow.

“ Chief," answered he, “ when I saw the bear rushing upon thee,

I thought it was the Manitou who had taken compassion on my
sulferings; my heart for an instant felt light and happy; but as
death was near thee, very near, the Good Spirit whispered his
wishes, and I have saved thee for happiness. It is I W'ho must die!
1 am nothing, have no friends, no one to care fgr me, to love me,
to make pleasant in the lodge the dull houi's of night. Chief,
farewell!”

He was going, but the chief grasped him firmly hy the arm—

^ “Where dost thou wish to go? Dost thou know the love of a*
brother? Didst thou ever dream of one? I have said we must bo
brothers to each other—csome to the wigwam."

They returned to the village in silence, and when,they arrived
before the door of the council lodge, the chief summoned every¬
body to hoar what ho had to communicate, and ordered the parents
to bring the young girl.

“Flower of the magnolia," said ho, taking her hy the hand,
“wilt thou love iw; less as a brother than as a husbipid? Speak?
AVhi.spgi^ thy thought to me! Didst thou ever divam of another
voice than mine, a younger one, breathing of love and despair?”

Then loading the girl to ivhore the young ivarrior stood—

“Brother,” said he, “take thy wife and my sister.”

Turning tow'ards the elders, the chief extended his right arm so
as to invit(‘ general attention.

“I have called yon,” said he, “that an act of justice may be per-
formeil; hear rny words—

“A young antelope loved a lih', standing under the shade of a
sycamore, by the side of a cool stream. Daily he came to watch
it as it grew Avhiter and more beautiful; he loved it very much,
til) one day a largo bull came and picked up the lily. Was it good?
No! The poor antelope fled towards the mountains, never wish¬
ing to return any more under the cool shade of the sycamore. One
day he met the bull down, and about to be killed by a big bear.
He saved him; he heard only the whisper of his heart; he saved
the bull, although the bull had taken away the pretty lily from
where it stood, by the cool stream. It Avas good—it was well!
The bull said to the antelope, ‘ We shall he brothers, in joy and in
sorrow !’ and the antelope said, ther/? could be no joy for him since*
the lily was gone. The bull considered: he thought that a brother
ought to make great sacrifices for a bi*other, ami he .«aid to the
antelope, ‘BuhoKl! there is the lily, take it before it droops away,
wear it in thy bosom and be happy,’ Chiefs, sages, and warriors,

H

tuavi;t<s axJ) A!)\i:>’Tnu:s

114

I am tho ttbll; iK'hold! my broLia'i* (lU* aiticlopi'. I have p:iv(‘Ti
imto him the (lower o(' th(' .she is the lily that i^rew by

the side of the streaui, :uul under (lie sy(*amore. I ha%o done
well, I liaY(i d(m(' mneh, yet not enom 2 ;li Tor a great chief, not
enough for a hrotlr'r, not <'nong!i fo»“ jii'^iiee! H;i,g!\s, warriors,
hear me all; th(* lh»v('r of tlie ma<niolia ran lie hut upon thi‘ bosom
of a chlfd- IVl}’ brother imisl ))eeom'' a chief, he is a chief, for L
divide with him the power I possess: iny ov<"altli, my lodire, arc his
own—my horses, mv mules, my furs, and all! A elih'f has Imt one
Ihi', and it is a great gift, th.at cannot h(‘ )>aid too higlily. Yon lia\e
heard mv words—I ha\(' said!*’

This soumls very much like aro})nne(‘, hut it is an .‘\i)aehe story,
related of one of their greatelfad's, during oik* ot their evening en-
«(!ampm<'nts. An Apa,(;be Inning in a moment of passion, aecideu-
tally killed one of the tribe, lundened to tlu! ebiefs to deliver him¬
self up to justice. On his r.ay he was met by the brottuu’ of his
victim, upon whom, aceordmg to Indian laws, fell the duty (»f
revenge and i'et.a]iation; tiicy were trimids and .shook hand.s toge¬
ther.

“Yet 1 must kill thee, friend,” said the brother.

“Thou wilt!” answered file luunha’er; “it is tliy duty, but wilt
tbou not ri'meniber tlu; d ingers we bare passed fogetlu'r, and pro¬
vide and consoh' those 1 leave Ixdiind in my lodge?" p

“I w'ill," answ'on'd tho lirotlier; “thy wife shall he my sister,
during her wddow hood; thy ehildren will never want game, until
they can tbemselve.s st.i'ike the hounding deer."

The tw'o Indians continued tluur w; /in sih'nce, till all at once
the brother of the murdered one sto])[> sk

“We .shall .soon roaeii the clil'is,'' said he; “F to revimge a
brother's di-ath, tbou to ipiit for ci er tby tribe and tby cbildren.
Ilast thou a wish? Think; vviii^per!’’

The murderer stood irre.solute, bis glance furfhely took the
duv.ctiou of his lodge. The brotlier eotdinued—

“Go to tby loilge. I shall wait for thee till (ho setting of the
sun, before the council door. Go! tby tongue is silent; but I know
(he wish of thy heart,. Go!’’

Such traits arc common in Indian life. Distrust exisl.s not among
till' ehihlrmi of the wilderne.ss, until generated by the conduct of white
men. Thesestories and thousand others, a.ll ('Aempli lying tlietriuinpU
of virtue and honour over baseness and vice, ttre every day narrated
by the elders, in presence of the young men and ehildren. The
evening encampment is a great school of morals, wIkto the Ked-
skin philosopher embodies in his tales tho sacred precepts of virtue.
A traveller, could he under.stand what was said, as he viewed the
.scene, might fancy some of the sages of ancient Greece ineulcatbig
to their disciples those precepts of wisdom which liave transmitted

M^NSTT’.tJn VIOin:T. ]J5

tlicir namos down to ns hrj,c:l)t and glorious, through nioro than
1 w(*n1y cc'nluj'Ios.

I liave sl'itcid that tlio holj' men among the Indians, that is to
say, the ko('pers of tho sa.e]-ed lodges, kf3(‘p the records of the great
do('ds psTfonnod in the tribe; but a tribe will generally boast more
of the great virtues of oin- of its men than of the daring of its
bravest warriors. “A virtuous man,” they say, “has the oar of
the Manitou; he can tell him the sufferings of Indian nature, and
ask him to ^()othe them.”

liven th(‘ JMexicans, Mho, of all men have had most to suffer, and
sillier daily from tlio Aiianhes,* cannot but do them the justice they
■^o well deserve. The road bidwixt Chihuahua and Santa Fe is
<dinost entirely d<'S(‘rt<’d, so muefi are the Apaches dreaded; yet
they are not hated l)y the Mexicans lialf as much as tlie Texian^
or the Airerieans. Tlio Apaches are constantly at war with the
Mexi(!ans, it is true, hut never have they committed any of those
cowardly atrocities nhieli have disgraced every page of Texian ■his¬
tory. With the Apaelies there are no murders in cold blood, no
abuse of the prisoners; a captive knows that he Mull either suflet*
death or be adopted in thi' tribe; but he has never to fear the
slow fire and the excruciating torture so generally employed by
tli(^ Indians in the United States’ territories.

'riieiP generosity is unbounded, and by the treatment I received
jit tbeir hands the readiT may form an idea of that brave people.
'I'hey M’ill never bnrt a strangj'r corning to them*, a green bongh in
his baud is a token of peace; for him they muU spread the best
Idaukets the wigwam e:in afford, they Mall studiously attend to his
M-anls, smok»^ with liirn the calumet of peace, and when he goes
away, whatiMn'r he in'iy desire from among the disposable wealth
of th(' tribe, if lie asks for it, it is given.

(rabriel "was once attacked near Santa Fe, and robbed of his
baggage by some honest Yankee traders. He fell in with a party
of Apaches, to whom ho related the circumstance. They gave him
some fdankets, and leJ t him with their young men at the hunting-
!odg(‘s th('y had ('reeted. The ni'xt day they returned with sove-
i-al Yankei' < 3 aptiv('s, all well tied, to prevent any possibility
of escape. These were the thieves, and what they had taken from
(labriel Avas of course restored to him. One of the Indians saying,
that the A'ankees, having blackened and soiled the country by theft,
should receive the punishment of dogs, and as it was beneath an
Apache to strike Ibcin, cords wore given to them, with orders that
tlicy should chastise eaiih other for their rascality. The black¬
guards were obliged to submit, and the dread of being scalped was
too strong upon them to allow them to refuse. At first, they did

* what I here say of tlic Apachcfi applies to tlie ivhole Shoshone race,

116 TRAVELS AND ADVENT||i^iES Or

not seem to hurt each other much; but out' or tu o of them, smart¬
ing under the lash, returned tlie blows in good earnest, and then
they all got angry and boat each other so immorcifully that, in a
few minutes, the}'' were scarcely able to move. Nothing could
exceed the ludicrous picture w’hich Gabriel would draw out of this
little event.

There is one circumstance ^^'hich will form a particular datura in
the history of the western wild tribes; I mean the terrible visita¬
tion of the small-pox. The Apichcs, Comanehes, the .Sho.sliones,
and Arrapahoes, art* so clean and so very nice in the arrangtiment
of their domestic comforts, that thi*y suffered vi'ry little, or not at
all; at lea.st, I do not remember a single ease w Inch brought death in
these tribes; indeed, as I have before mentioned, the Shoshones
faccinate.

But such was not the ease with the Club Indians of the Colorado
of the West, with the Crows, the Flat-heads, the ITinbiquas, and
the Black-feet. These last suffered a groat deal more tllan any peoi)le
in the world ever suffered from any plague or pestilence. To be
sure, the Mandans had been entirely swept from the surfaci' of the
earth, but they were few; ivhile the Black-feet were undoubttidly
the most numerous and powerful tribe in the neighbourhood of
the moimtains. Their war-parties ranged the country from the*
northern English posts on the Slave l^ake, down south to the very
borders of the Shoshones, and many among them had talten scalps
of the Osages, near the Mississipi, and (weii of the Great Pawnees.
Between the Red River and the Platte they had oiiee one hundred
villages, and thousands jmd thousands lU' horses. They numbered
more than six thousand warriors. Their name had become a byu'ord
of terror on the northern continent, from shor(» to shore, and little
children in the eastern states, who knew not the name of the* tribes
two miles from their dwellings, had learned to dread even the name
of a Black-foot. Now the tribe has been reduced to comparative
insignificancy by this dreadful scourge. They died by thousands;
whole towns and villages werti destroyed: and even now the trap¬
per, coming from the mountains, will often come across number¬
less lodges in ruins, and the blanched skeletons of uucounted and
unburied Indians. Th(*y lost ten thousantl individuals in less than
three weeks.

Many tribes but little Icnown suffered pretty much in the same
ratio. The Club Indians, 1 have mentioned, numbering four thou¬
sand before the pestilence, are now reduced to thirty or forty
individuals, and some Apaches related to me, that, happening at
that time to travel along the shores of the Colorado, they met the
poor fellows dying by hundreds on the very edge of the water,
where they had dragged themselves to <|nench tlu'ir burning thirst,
there pot being among them one healthy or strong enough to help

MONSIEUR VIOLET.

117

and succour the others. The Navahoes, liviiipj in the neighbour¬
hood of the Club Indians, have entirely disappeared; and, though
late travellers have mentioned, them in their works, there is not
one of them living now.

Mr. Farnhain mentions them in his “Tour on the Mountains;"
but he must haveb(*en mistaken, confounding one tribe with another,
or, perhaps, deceived by the ignoramse of the trappers; for that
tribe occupied a ranged of country entirely out of his track, and
never travelled by American traders or trappers. Mr. Fariihara
could not have been in their neighbourhood by at least six hundred
) idles.

The villages formerly occupied by the Navahoes are deserted,
though many of their lodges still stand; but they serve only to
shelter mimei*ous tribes of dogs, which, having increased wonder-
ftilly since there has been no on(' to kill and eat them, have become
the lords of' ^ ast districts, wlitre they hunt in packs. So numer¬
ous and so fierce have they grown, that the neighbouring tribes feel
great unwillingness to extend their range to whore they might fall
in with these canine hunters.

This disease, which has spread north as far as the Ohakallagans,
on the borders of the Pacific Ocean, north of Fort Vancouver, has
also extended its ravages to the western declivity of the Arrahuac,
down to 30" north lat., whore fifty nations that had a name aro
now forgotten; the traveller, perehance, only reminded that they
existed when he fiills in with heaps of unburied bones.

How the lllack-feet cangtit the infection it is difficult to say, as
their immediate neighbours in the east escaped; but the sites of
their tillages wore well calculated to render the disease more
general and terrible: their .settlements being generally built in
some recess, deep in the heart of the mountains, or in valleys sur¬
rounded by lofty hills, which jirevent all circulation of the air;
and it is easy to understand that the atmosphere, once becoming
impregnated with the effluvia, and having no issue, must have
been deadly.

On the contrary, the Sfioshones, the Apaches, and the AiTapa-
hoes, have the generality of their villages built along the shores of
deep and broad rivers. Inhabiting a warm clime, cleanness, first
a necessity, has become a second nature. The hides and skins are
never dried in the immediate vicinity of their lodges, but at a great
distance, where the effluvia can hurt no one. The interior of their
lodges is dry, and always covered with a coat of hard white clay,
a good precaution against insects and reptiles, the contrast of
colour immediately betraying their presence. Be.sides which, hav¬
ing always a plentiful supply of food, they are temperate in their
habits, and arc never guilty of excess; while the Crows, Black-
feet, and Clubs, having often to suffer hunger for days—nay, weeks

lit) TliAVn<S ANn A1>VJ3NTT UIIS Ol'

together—will, when they heave :in opj tort unity, eat lo repletion,
ami tlieir stomachs b<'ing ahvays in a disordered state (1 he prin¬
cipal and physical cause of their fierceness and feroeity), it is no
wonder that they fell ^ ictims, with siieh predispositions to disease.

It will require many generations to reeover the number of In¬
dians W'liich perished in that year; and, as 1 ha^e said, as long as
they live, it wdll form an epoch or era to nliich IhiA' will for cen¬
turies refer.

CHAPTER XIX.

Is the last chapter but one, I stated that I and iny coinpaninns,
Gabriel and Roche, had been delivered up to the ‘Me\i<*an agents,
and were journeying, under an escoi't of thirt}' men, to the Mexi¬
can capital, to be liangetl as an example to all lilx-rators. Tliis
escort was commanded by tA^o most atrocious villains, .loaclu'in
Texada and Louis Ortiz. They evidently antici]).it<'d that lln'y
would become great men in the republic, upon the safe deliv('ry of
our persons to the Mexican guvermuent, and cAcry tlay took gofid
care to remind ns that the gibbet was to be our fate on our arrival.

Our route lay across the central deserts of Sonora, until au; ar¬
rived on the banks of the Rio Grande; and so afraid Avero they
of falling ill AAdth a hostile parly of Apaclies, tlial they tool: long
turns out of the general track, and tlirough mountainruis passes,
by which we not only suffered greatly from liitigue, hut Avei e very
often threatened Avitli starvation.

It was si,\ty-three days before avo oossed the Rio (iraiulc at
Christobal, and aag had still a long journej' bfdoro us, Tliis delay,
occasioned by the timfditj'^ of our guards, })roved our salvation.
We had been but one day on our man>li in the swajuj) after h aving
Christobal, when the war-Avdioop pierced our ears, and a moment
afterwards our party Avas surrounded by some hundri'd Apaelu's,
who saluted us Avith a shower of arrows.

Our Mexican guards threw' tlicm.si'lves down on the ground, and
cried for mercy, offering ransom. I an-^wered the war-whoop of
the Apaches, representing my companions and myself as their
friends, and re<iuesting their jjclp and protection, which were im¬
mediately given. W(> w'ere once more unbound and free.

I hardly need say that this was a most agreeabh' <‘hang<‘ in the
state of affairs; for I have no doubt that, had wc arrived at onr
destination, we should either have been gibbeted or died (someliuAV
or another) in prison. But if the change was satisfactory to ns,
it was not so to Joachem Texada and Louis Ortiz, who changed
their notes with their change of condition.

The scoundrels, who had amused themselves wdth reminding us
that all we had to expect was an ignominious death, were; now our

MONSlKlJll Y10L.r/J'.

XJf)

IjiniiMo scrvuiils, t'leaniu" and brushing thoir own mulos
J‘or onr uso, linhliiifi the stirrn]), and lor our iiiteribrc'nfi-* in

tiicir l)ol)aU*witb tlu) Sucli a'* r{‘t(‘lu's did not deserve uur

good oflictvs; Asc thcrelori' said nothing lor or against them, Icua-
ing tin* Apa. Ix's to act as Iticy i)!<'a'->c(!. About a week after <njr
lilicration, flit* Apaclx-s halted, Hs they were about to divide^their
force into tAsu hands, one of which Avas to return Ixnne Avith the
booty tin y had caidiired, Avhile the otlier proceeded to the borders
of d'exas.'

I have statcil tliat the Shosiioin‘S, th(! Arrapahoes, and Apaches
had entered into the coiiK'deralion, but the (kAuninelie.s Avere too
far distant lor iis to lia\e liad an o]:)])»>r(unity ot making tlie propo¬
sal to liiein. \s tins union was always uppermost in my mind, 1
H'soiAed that 1 uoiiid now \isil the ('oinanches, with a Aiew lu tin?
turtlicranec o| iny object.

The country on the east side of the Kio Grande is one dreary,
desert, in Avhicli n<t watt-r is to lie procured. J V)ellove no Indian
has (Mcr done more titan skirt its border; indeed, as tiu'y assert
that it is iiiliahitt'd tiy .sjdrits and demons, it Ls clear ttiat they can¬
not luMe visibs! if.

'fo ]n’ocecti fi> the (’omanches (Hnintry, it Avas therefore ueees-
snry that we should follow the llio (irande till wo eame to the pre¬
sidio of Itio (iraude, belonging to the Mexicans, and from there
crossover and lake the road to San Antonio do liejar, the last
Avcsti'i’u city of Texas, and proceed ihronglt the Texian country to
W'lu re the (’ojnanehes were loeated. 1 therefore decided that aa'o
A voul*! join tlie band of Aijuches Avho A\ere proceeding toward.s
Te\as.

During tin’s i‘\i‘ursion the Ajiaehes bad eaplurod many horses
!ind arms 1‘rom a trading party which tlx'v bad surprised near
(’Jiihnalma, and, witfi tiunr acenstonied liberality, they furnished
usAAifh steeds, sadiiles, arms, blank(‘ts and elotiies; indeed, they
Avere .so gcm'voii.s that we eould ea.sily pass ourselve.s ofl’ as mer-
ehaiif.s retiiniing ti-oin a trading expeditum, in case we were to tall
in with any Alexieans, and have to undergo an examination.

We took our leave of the generous Apache chiefs, Avho were re¬
turning liomowards. .loaclu'in Texadaand Louis Ortiz were, with
the re.st of the esiairt, led awmy as captive.s, and what IxHxime of
tlauu I cannot say. AVb' travcdhnl Avitli the other band of Indians,
until Ave Ivad passed the presidio del lUo Grande, a strong Mexi¬
can fort, and tlie day aftirwards took our faroAvell of them, having
joiiKxl a baiul of sinugglmvs avUo AVere on their Avay to Texas. Ten
days afterwards, avo entd’ed San Antonio <ie Bejar, and had
nothing more* to fear, as W'o wen* now clear of the Mexican terri-
tory.

San Antoni(j d(* Jh'jar is by far the most agreeable residence in

12() TK WEtS AND ADVENTrRES or

Texas, Whon hi tli^* p!)Ssossioii of the Mexicans, il must, have
been a charming phu’e.

The river San Antonio, which rises at a short fllst ance ahovt* the
city, glides gracefullv tliroiigh the suburbs, an<l its ch'ar waters,
by numerous winding <'anals, are brnuglU up to every house. The
temperature of the water is the same tliroughout the 3 'ear, neitluu'
too warm noj’ too cold for bathing, and not a single <lay passes
without the inhabitants indulging in the favourite and healttiv exer¬
cise of swimming, which is jwaetised l\y evi'vybody Iroui morning
till evening; and the traveller along the shores of this beautifu!
river will constantly see hundretls ol children, of all ;\g> ^ .ind
colour, swimming ami diving like so many ducks.

The climate is pure, diy, and healthy. l>uring Miuniu i ti ■ bia e/c*
& fresh and perfumed, and as it nevt^r rains, the m "diw-' nn,g
plantations arc ivatered hy canals, Avhich receive and carr, in i \ t-ry
direction the waters of the San Antonio. Turuu rly tin* (itv -n
tained fifteen thousand inhabitants, hut tie luqinni i*evolutiou •,
and the bloody battles which have bes-n fouvht v itlini its walls,
have most materially (jontributed to diminish its number; .^o rmieh
indeed, that, in point of population, the city of San \ntonio de
Bejar, with its bishopric and wealthy nnssions, has lallen to the
rank of a small English tillage. It still carries on con^idclMble
trade, but its api)earauce of ]>rosperit.v i.s dei'i pti\t . and J would
caution emigrants not to be deceived by the Te.xian accourds of the
place. Immense profits have been made, to Ije sure, but t even
the Mexican smugglers and banditti are beginning to U .'..-usted
with the universal want of faith and proluty.

The Mexicans w'ere very fond of gardens and of sui rounding "heir
houses Avith Iwaiitiful trees, under the shade ol' which tin \ \'' u .!
pass most of the time that eould be .spared from ba(hiii>. Tl i.'>
give.? a fresh and Imdy appearanee to the cit.v, and 30 U art- rt>-
minded of Calabrian scenery; the lightness and simplicity of the
dwellings contrasting with tiu' grandeur and majest y of the oonas-
tic buildings in tlie distance. Texas liad no convi'nts, but the Spa¬
nish missions were numerous, and tlieir noble structures niuai. as
monuments of former Spanish greatness. Before describing these
immense establishments, it is nece.s.sary to .state that, soon after the
conquest of Mexico, one of the chief objects of Spanish policy was
the extension of the authority of the Homan Catholic church. Tlu'
conversion of the Indians and the promulgation of Christianity Avere
steadily interwoA'cn Avith the desire of Avoalth; and at the time that
they took aAA'ay the Indian's gold, they’ gave him Christianity. At
first, force was required to obtain proselytes, but cunning was
found to succeed better; and, by allowing the superstitions of the
Indians to be mixed up with the rites of the church, a sort of half-
breed religion became general, upon the principle, I presume, that

MONSI^Un VIOLET.

m

hair a loaf Ijotti-i’ than no laa-ad, Tlio anomalous oonseqiionces
of <his })n1i< v arc to ))(> seen in tlic Indian form^hies even to this
da_^^

To afford adequate ])n/tct!tion to th<‘ Homan Catholic mission¬
aries, sf'tllcniciits were established, which still bear the name of
ini.ssion.s 'I'ic y are ^ erv nnnierous throughout California, and there
are several im Texas. Tin; Alamo, at San Antonio', w'as one of
great imjieri lace; th(‘re were otliors of loss consideration in the
i'/hbourltoiiil—as tht' missions of Conception, of San .Tuan, San
Jo'C, and l,.t Ls)»aila. All lla'se edifici^s are most substantially
b"ii(; (lie walls art- ol great thiekness,and from their form and ar-
anjfmeni t 1 ic\ could be eemverted into frontier fortresses. They
'i. d i.cMe)-.iil .• *hou^'t not always, a cluiroh at the side of the
qiiarc, I o'li )^ ill i.iah walls, througli wliich there was but one
■>'11 a,1C. (■ Miferio.* Ihiy had a large iiranary, and the outside

''all 11'n hacK (o vi range of buildings, in wliieli the mis¬

sionaries aivi (II ir t'oii\erts residf'd. \ jiortion of the surrounding
district .'.a qijn (iriaUsi to agru-ultnre, tin; land being, as I
beloia (‘bseiwi- ■ atial bv small ('anals, which conducted the
wale- from rb
Tii«‘ Ahuno
Inner ajonvi i

n ii

; i.iiis. util.v 1 w 0 or three of the houses of the
mli.ibited. T’hi' gat(;way of the church was
hjcliU onumeated, and still reiuains, although the figures which
oio-e occupied ilie uiclu's have disappeared. lJut there is still suffi¬
cient in the ruins (o iiUertNt the inquirer iiitq its former history,
e\cn it he <'oaid for a moment forget fhe scenes which have ren¬
der. • ! it ' flolii'ati'd in rhe hisiorv ot IVxisiu independence.

VlioLit tw.i miles lower down tlie San Antonio river is the mis.sion
d ('one.‘pi ion. It is a v('r\ large sloiu* building, with a line cupohi,
ml ‘ilioiigh a i)!am building, is magnificent m its proportions and
iraliilif_\ ol its const rnetion. It was liere that Bowie fought
e oi the first liattles witti the Alexican forces, and it has not since
11 inhabited. Though not so well known to fame as other eon-
s, this baftk' was tliat which r.'ally committed the Texiaus, and
nnpi'lh'd thosi* w ho thought of t<Tius and the maintenance of a
h'viean connexion to perceive' that the time for both had passed.
The mission of San Jose is about a mik' and a half further down
I Ik* riv('r. It eonsists, like the others, of a large square, and nume-
I'ous AI(*xioan families .still reside there. To the left of the gateway
is the granary. The church stands apart from the building; it is
within the square, but uneoiinected. The west door is decorated
with tlie most elaborate carvings of flow'ers, image.s ot angels, and
figure.s of the apostles: the interior is plain. To the right is a
handsome tower and belfry, and above the altar a large stone
cupola. Behind the church is a long raug(i of rooms for the mis¬
sionaries, with a corridor of nine arche.s in front. The Texian

TUW ANlI AO\K>'TntlKS Vl'

V22

troops wei'c louj^ quart or (‘d lu'rr, and, altliouifli always intoAunitod,
strange to say, tiff ,sf imt'oarv ings lia\ e i)i)t Ikmsj injured. Tfie clnireh
has since been repaired, and divine St'rviee is performed in iL

Abont half a mile further doun is the mission of San Juan. 'I'he,
church forms part of Ihe sides of Ihc square, and on the north-west
corner ofthi* square are the nanains of a small stone tc^nei’. This
mission, as w'eli as that of La K*'pada, is iuhahite<l. The rhiireh of
La Espada, honever, is in ruins, and l)ut tno sides of the square,
consisting of mere walls, roinaiu ('ntire; the others have been wan¬
tonly destroyt'd.

The church at Sau Antonio de U<*jar was built iii the year 1717;
and although it ha'-’ suflTercd mueli Iroin the nnniv sieux's whieh the
city has undergone, it is still used as a plai-v' ol puhhe vv(;r.slijj). At
the time that Sau Antonio was attaeki'd and takvn hy Colonel
Cooke, in S('verHl cannon-shots struck the dome, and a wat

deal of damage was done: in fact, all the lunises in the prineqjal
square of the town an^ marked more or less hy shot. One aimuu”
them lias feufVered very inueh; it is flu- “ CoTcTnment-hoiee," eeh -
brated for one of the most cowardly luassaen's ever conuniiied In-
a nation of harbariaiis, and wliieli 1 shall hen' relate.

Aftx'r some skirmishes hefwixt the Coinamdies and th(‘ T< .xiam,
in whieh the former had always ha«i the advanta-'e, th ‘ latter
thought it advisable to xvroposc a treaty of allianee. jMes-.en;,'ers,
with flags of truee, were despatched among the Judians, inviting all
th(dr chiefs to a council at San Antonio, where the representatives
of Texas would meet them and make their proiios.ils lor an eternal
peace. Incapable of treachery theins^dv es, the brave Comauehes
never suspected it in others; at the tinu agretod iqion, Uu’ty ol f lieir
principal cliicfs arrived in the town, and, leaving their horses in
the squai'e, proceeded to the “ Government-house." 'riiey wi're all
unarmed, their long flow ing hair covered with a profushm ol gohl
and silver ornaments; their dresses very rich, ami their lilanlets
of that fine Mexican texture which commands in the market Irom
fitly to one hundred and fifty dollars a-piecc. Tlu'lr Jiorses wtre
noble animals and of gi'eat value, their saddles richly ('mliossetl vv it h
gold and silver. The display of so much wi'alth excited all the
worst projien.sitics of the Texian pvqmlaee, w'lio I’esolved at. anv
price to obtain possession of so sjilendid a booty. Whih' the eliiets
were making their speeches of peace and amity, a few hundred Texian
blackgtiard.s rushed into the room with iJieir pistols and knivv.s,
and began their work of murder. All thi' liulians fell, except oin*,
who succeeded in making his c.scapi‘; hut though the <k)manehe.s
were quite unarmed, they sold thrii* live-s dearly, for eighteen
Tex Ians wi*ro found among (lai .slain.

I will close this cJiajiler with a few remark,s upon the now ac¬
knowledged repaidic of Texa.s.

MOKHIEI'K VJOEJJT.

'J'l)o <lisinc>tnl)cmi<'tit (»1‘ from oftVutetl by the

rejiorts o)’ e.vleiisivo initieh, diamonds, &c*. wliieh ’were to bo
finiiul Dici'c, and ^^]Iiell raisc'd tlic (•uj)klity of tbe eastern specula¬
tors and land-jo)d)er.s ol’tlio United Slates. Hut, in all probabiUt}^
this aj>propria(ion would lu ver have taht'H place, if it bad not been
that lh<; southern stales of Aineidi'a had, with \<‘ry different views,
given every eneourageuu'ut to tlie attempt.

The people of Louisiana and the southern states knew the exact
value of the country, and laughed at the idea of its immense
treasurv's. Tlu^y acted from a deep, aJthough it (wentually ba.s
turned out to have b(‘en a false, policy. They considered that
Texas, once wre sted from ISIevico, would he adnntt(‘d into the
Union, subdivided into two or three states, every one of which
would, of coui-se, lx* slave-holding state.s, and si'inl their members*
to (longi-es.s. 'J’liis would have given the slave-holding states the
prepoiiileraiiee in the IJniom

Lvv'iils have turned out diflerenlly, and the phiuters of the
south now di-]*lore their untoward policy and want of foresight, as
they have assi''ted, in rai.sing up a formidable rival in the produc¬
tion (ff (heir staple commodity, injurious to them even in time of
iK'a'U', and in case of a war with Knglaiid, still moi*c inimical to
tiu'ir interests.

Jt is much lo bi‘ lamented that Texas had not been populatVHl by
a mitre desiun ing class of individuals; it might have been, even by
this time, a country of impovtanee and wealth; hut it hiivS from tlw*
eomnieim.eiueiit been the resort of (wcTy vagabond and scoundrel
who could not vu-nture to remain in the Ignited States; and, un¬
furl iinatc'ly, the Tt'xiaTt cliaracter was fixed and established, as a
(omiminity wholly destitute of prineiiilo or jirobity, before tbe
emigi’alion of more res]je<*table settler.s had eommenced. The eon-
■•'eqiu'iu'e-s have been most disastrous, and it is to be (juestioiied
wheth(>r some of llunn will ever be retnoved.

At the period of its independence, the population of Texas was
estimated at about forty thousand. Now, if yovi ai’C to credit the
Texiaii government, it hu.s incrciised to about seventy-five
thousand. Such, however, is noti^io fact, although it, of course,
sTuts the. members of the republic to make the assertion. In.stead
of the increase stated by them, the population of Texas has de¬
creased considerably, aiul is not now etpial to what it was at the
IndejvendeiUM!.

This nmy ai)pear strange, after so many thousands from the
United States, England, and Uermany, have been indueod to emi¬
grate there; but the fact is, that, after having arrived in the
country, and having discovered that they were at the mercy of
bands of miscreauls, who are eapahle of any dark deed, they have
quitted the country to save the remainder vvf their substance, and

TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF

124

have passed over into Mexieo, the Southern TTnited States, or any¬
where else where they had some chance of security for life and
property.

Among the population of Texas were counted many thou‘<and
Mexicans, who remained in the country, trusting that order and
law would soon be established; but, disappointed in their ox]>ecla-
tions they have emigrated to Mexico. Eight thousand have
quitted St. Antonio de Bejar, and the void has been filled up by
six or seven hundred drunkards, thieves, and imirderer.s. The
same desertion has taken, place in Goliad, Velasco, Nacogdoches,
and other towns, which were formerly occupied by Mexican
families.

. It may give the reader somt* idea of the inseeurity of life and
‘property in Texas, when I state, that there are numerous hands <if
robbers continually on the look-out, to rifle and murder the tra¬
vellers, and that it is of frequent occurrence for a house to be at¬
tacked and plundered, the women violated, and every iiidi\’idual
afterw'ards murdered by these miscreants, who, to escape detee-
tiou, dress and paint themselves as Indians. Of course, what I
have now stated, although w'ell known to be a fact, is not likely to
be mentioned in the Texian new'spapers.

Another serious e^ il arising from this lawdess stat(‘ of the coun¬
try is, that the Indians, who were well inclin<*d towards the
Texlans, as being, with them, mutual enemies of the Mexicans, are
now hostile, to extermination. I have mentioned the murder of
the Comanche chiefs, in the f^ovemment-house of San Antonio,
which in itself, was sufficient. But such has been the disgraceful
conduct of the Texians towards thv" Indians, that the white man is
now considered by them as a term of reproach; they are spoken
of by the Indians as “dogs," and are generally hung or shot when¬
ever they are fallen in with. Centuries cannot repair this serious
evil, and the Texians have made bitter and implacable foi's of
those who would have been their friends. No distinction is made
between an American and a Texian, and the Texians liave raised
up a foe to the United States, which may hereafter prove md a
little troublesome. •

Bi another point, Texas has been seriously injured by thi,s total
want of probity and principle. Had Western Texas been .settled
by people of common honesty, it would, from its topographical
situation, have soon become a very important country, as all
the mercantile transactions with the north central provinces of
Mexico would have been secured to it.

I^om the presidio del Rio Grande there is an excellent road to
San Antonio de Bejar; to the south of San Antonio lies Chihuahua;
so that the nearest and most accessible route overland, from the
United States to the c^tre of Mexico, is through San Antonio.

MONSIBOB VXOL£T.

125

And this overland route can be shortened by discharging vessels
at Linvillc, or La Bacca, and from thence taking the goods to San
Antonio, a distance of about one hundred and forty miles. The
■ western boundary lino of Texas, at the time of the declaration of
its indepondonee, was understood to be the river Nueces; and if
so, nothing could liave prevented San Antonio from becoming an
inland depot of much commercial importance.

Numerous parties of Mexican traders have long been accustomed
to come to San Antonio from the Rio Grande. Th(?y were generally
very honest in their payments, and showed a very friendly spirit.
Had this trade been protected as it should have been, by putting
down the bands of robbers, who rendered the roads unsafe by
their depredations and atrocities, it would have become of more
value than ajiy trade to Santa Fe- Recognised or unrecognised, •
Texas could have carried on the trade; merchants would have
settled in the West, to participate in it; emigrants would have '
collected in the district, where the soil is rich and the climate
healthy. It is true the trade would have been illicit; but such is
ever the inevitable consequence of a high and ill-regulated tariff.

It would, nevertlu'less, have been very profitable, and would have
conciliated the population of Rio Grande towards the Texiims, and
in all probability have forced upon the Mexican government the
establishment of friendly n-lations between the two countries.

But this trade has been totally destroyed; fhe Indians now seize
and plunder every caravan, either to or from San Antonio; the
Texian robbers lie in wait for them, if they escape the Indians;
and sliould the M(?xican trader escape with his goods from both,
he has still to imdergo the chance of being swindled by the soi~
(lisant Texian merchant.

If ever there was a proof, from the results of pui'suing an opposite
course, that honesty is the best policy, it is to be found in the
present state of Texas.

CHAPTER XX.

Happily for me and my two companions, there still remained
two or three gentlemen in San Antonio. These were Colonel
Soguin and Messrs; Novarro, senior and junior, Mexican gentlemen,
who, liberal in their ideas, and frank in their natures, had been
induced by the false representations of the Texians not to quit the
country after its independence of Mexico; and as they were men
of liigh rank, b)!' so doing they not only forfeited their rights as
citizens of Mexico, but also incurred the hatred and animosity of
that government.

Now that they had discovered their error, it was too late to
repair it; moreover, pride, and perhaps, a mistaken sense of honour,

Jau TU VVEL3 AND APVi:NTr7«lS OF

would not pertait thenx to romove to Moxioo, althongli sovorfd Cr^mi
all those ties wlneh render life sweet and agreeable. Their own
sorrows did not, howerer, int(‘rlere Avilii their unbounth^d hospi¬
tality; in their lioiiso we found a homo. 'WTx formed no intimaer
with the Tcxi.ans; indeed, mu* had no eontaet whatever with thorn,
except that one day Koehe thrasixod two of th m with his shillalaii
for ill-treating an old Indian.

Inquiries Avere made by Colonel S<‘guin as to where the Coraan-
ehos might be found, and we soon aseertained that they Avere in
their great villago at the foot of the (irr'eu Mountain, ufron the
southern Tork of the head Avatcr.s of the liio llovo.

\Ve made immediate preparations fru* (Uqrartnre, and as we pro¬
posed to pas.s through Austin, the eapital of Texas, our Kind
‘entertainers pressr'd iiv^o liuiuiri'd dollars upon as, under tlu' ph‘a
that no Texian would ever give ns a tumbler of water except it was
paid for, and that, moreover, it was possible that, aft<u* passing a
few days among the gallant membi'rs of (kmgress, aau* might miss
our holsters or stirrups, our hlankets, or even one of our hoj'ses.

We found their prediction, in tlin first instance, but too Iriu'.
Six miles from Austin aa'o stoppcul at the fann of the Honourable
Judge Webb, and asked U'ave to Avaler our horses, as they had
travelled forty miles imd(‘r a hot sun without draAving hit. The
honourable judge flatly refused, although he had a good AVell, ))esldos
a pond under fence, covering scA'cral acres; his Avife, however
reflecting, perbap.s, that her stores were rather short of coffee or
salt, entered into a rapid discus-sioil with her worsei half, and by-
and-bye that respectable couple of honoiirables agreed to sell water
to us at tw'ent.y-five cents a bucket.

When we xlismounted to take ibe bridles off our horses, the
daughters arrh^d, and perceiving av(i liad noAv silk saslu‘s and
neckerchiefs and some fine jewels, th('y devoured us with their
eyes, and one of them, speaking to her papa, that most hf>s'pitabl(*
gentleman invltod us to enter his house. By that time avc awtc
once more upon our saddles and ready to start. Koclie felt indig¬
nant at the meanness of the fellow wlio hatl received our sev«‘nty-
five cents for the water before he invited us into the house. W(*
refiise<l, and Roche told him that he w-as an old scoundrel to sell
for money that which oven a savage aa IU never refuse to his most
bitter enemy.

The rage of the honourable, cannot bo depicted: ‘^My rifle!*' he
vociferatfid, <‘ii^ rifle! for God’s sake, B<d8y~.Tuliet, run for my
rifle!" - •

The judge th^ w'ont into the house; but as throe pi.sfols were
drawn from om* holsters, neither he nor his rifle made their
app^^ee, so we turned our horses’ heads and rode on leisurely
Austin.

MONSIEUR VIOT.KT.

127

111 Austin wo ha'l a grantl opportunity of seoiug the Texians
undor thoir friu' colours. Thcro were tht*ee hotels in tovra, and
every evening after five o’clock, ahno.st all of them, not easeludlng
1 !n> president of the republic, the secretaries, judges, ministers, and
members of Congress, Avere more or less tipsy, and in the quarrels
Avhieh ensued, liardly a niglit passed without tour or five men being
stubbed or shot, and the riot was continued during the major
portion of th(> night, so that at nine o’clock in the morning every-
b{»dy Avas still in bed. So buried in .silence was the town, that one
inorning at eight o’clock, I killed a fine buck grazing quietly before
the door (»f the (^'lpi{ol. It is strange that this capital gf Texa.s
siiould have been erected upon the verj^ northern houndary of the
state, Indians have often entered it ami taken scalps not tim steps
fnmi tli(‘ Cap|^)l. ^

While we AAcre in Austin aa'C made the acquaintance of old
('astro, the chief of tlui liCpan Indians, an offstit of the Comanche
tribe. lie is one of the best-bred gentlerami in the world, having
rt'ceivod a liberal and military education, first in Mexico, and'
subsequently in Spain. He has travelled in France, Grcnrniany,
England, and in fact, all over Europe. He speaks and Avrites five
or six languages, and so conscious Is ho of his superiority over the
Texians, that he neA'^er addresses them but Avith contempt. He
once said to them in the legislature room of Matagorda:—

“ Xei er deceive yoursoh'^es, Texians; I fight with you against the
IMex leans, becau.se betAAuxt thorn and me tliere is an irrec:oncUable
hatred- lie not then flatter yourselves that it is through friendship
tuAvanis you. I can give my friendship only to those who are
liononrablo both in peace and in Avar; you are all of you Jiars, and
many of you thieves, scoundrel.^, and base murderers. Yes, dogs,

1 sav true; yelp not, bark not, for you know you dare not bite,
uoAA that my Iaao Jiuudred warriors are surroimdihg this building;
be silent, I say.”

Castro Avas going in the same direction as oursolvo.s to join his
band, Avhich Avas at that moment buftalo-lmnting, a few journeys
northward. He had promiswl his company and protection to two
foreign g(iutl(?men, wdio AA ere desirous of beholding the huge tenant
of the prairies. W’’e all started together, and avo enjoyed verymuch
thi.s addition to our company. * •

The first day av'o travelled over an old Spanish military road,
crossing ricli rolling prairies, here and there watered by clear
streams, the banks of Avhich are sheltered by magnificent oaks.
FiftcM'n miles fi^n Austin there is a remarkable spot, upon which
a visionary speculator had a short time before attempted to fopnd
a city. He purchased an immense tract of ground, had beautiful
plans drawn and painted, and very soon there appeared upon paper
one of the largest and liandsoinest cities in the world. There were

128 tka-vels and adventdhesi oi?

colleges and public squares, penitentiaries, banks, taverns, whisky
shops, and fine walks. I hardly need say, that this town-manufac¬
turer WHS a Yankee, who intended to realize a million by selling
town-lots. The city (in perspective) was called Athens, and the
silly fellow had so much confidence in his own speculation, that Ik*
actually built \ipon the ground a very large and expensive house-
One day, as he, with tluree or four negroes, was oc'cupled in digging
a well, he w as attacked by a party of Yankee thic'ves, who thought
he had a great deal of money. The poor devil ran away from his
beloved city and returned no more. The house: stands as it w'as
left. I <»en saw'near the well the spades and piokaxe.s with which
they had been working at the time of the attack. Thus mod<Tn
Athens was cut off in the hud, which w as a great pity, as a few
Athenian sages and legislators are .sadly w'antt'd in 'Hfctas.

Early one morning we were aw'akened by loud roars in tlie prairie.
Castro started oq his feet, and soon gave the w'elcome news, “ The
buffaloes 1 ” On the plain were hundreds of dark moving .spots,
which increased in size as we came nearer; and before long, wa*
could clearly see tlie shaggy brutes galloping across the prairie, and
extending their dark compact phiilanxes even to the line of the
horizon. Then followed a scone of excitement. The but!aloes,
scared by the continual reports of our rifles, broke their rank.s, and
scattered themselves in every direction.

The two foreigners w ere both British, the youngest being a young
Irishman of a good family, and of the name of Fitzgerald, Wt* had
been quite captivated by his constant good humour and vivacity of
spirits; he w'as the life of our little evaiing encampments, and as
he had travelled on the other sidt* of the Pacific, we would remain
till late at night listening to his interesting and beautiful narratives
of his adventures in Asiatic counf rics.

He had at'first joined the English legion in Spain, in which he
had advanced to the rank of captain; ho soon got tired of that
service and went to Persia, where he entered inh) the Shah’s employ
as an ofiieer of artillery. This, after some time, not suiting Ms
fancy, he returned to England, and decided upon vi.sitixig Texas,
and establishing himself as a merchant at San Antonio. But his
taste for a wandering life would not allow Jiim to r(jraain quiet for
any lengtEi of time, and having one day fallen in with mi English
naturalist, who had come out on purpose to vLsit the north-w'est
prairies of Texas, he resolved to accompany hun.

Always feady f<»r any adventure, Fitz rushed madly among the
buffaloes. He was mounted upon a wild horse of <|he .small breed,
loaded w'itli saddlebag.s, water calabashes, tin and coffee cups,
blankets, &c. but these encurabrance.s did not stop him in the least.
“With his bridle fastened to the pommel of his saddle, and a pistol
in each hand, he sh<j| |q:|iie right and left, stopping now and then.

MbnigiitttrR violet. 129

to reload and then starting anew. During the hunt be lost bi$ hat,
his saddlebags, with linen and money, and his blanhetj^as he
never took the trouble to pick them up, they are probab^^et in
the prairie where they were dropped.

The other stranger was an English mvant., one of the queerest
fellows in the m orld. He wished also to take his sliaro in the buffalo>
hunt, but ins steed ivas a lazy and peaceable animal, a true nag for
a fat abbot, havuig a horror of anything like trotting or gaJlf^ing;
and, as he w^as not persuaded out of hfs slow walk, he and his
master remahied at a respectable distance from the scene of action.
“What an (‘xeellent caricature might have been made of that good-
hnmour(‘d savant, as he sat on liis Bozinante, armed with an enor¬
mous double-barrelled gun, loaded but not primed; sometimes, to no
purpose, .spurnng the self-willed animal, and then spying Hirongh *
on opera-glas'i at the majestic animals which he could not ap¬
proach !

We killed nine bulls and seven fat calves, and in the evening we
encamped near a little river, where we made an exquisite suppmr
of marrow and tongue, two good things, whldi can only be
enjoyed in the wild pr.iiries. The next day, at sunset, we received
a visit from an immense herd of mustangs (wild horses). Wo saw
them at first ascending one of the swells of the prairie, and took
them for hostile Indians; but having satisfied their curiosity, the
whole herd wheeled rounded with as much regnlaarity as a Well-
drilled squadron, and with their tails erect and long manes doadlng
to the wind, ere soon out of sight.

Many strange stories have been related by trappers and btinters
of a solitary white horse which has often berai met With near the
(’ross Timbers and the Red River. No one ever saw him trotting
or galloping; he only racks, hut with swh rapidity that no steed
can follow him. Immense sums of money have been offered to any
who could catch him, and many have attempted tho task, bht
u ithout success. The noble animal still runs free in his niltive
prairies, always alone and unapproachable.

We often met vi ith the mountain goat, an onimM which paTtlei<
pates botli of the deer and the common goat, but whose is Ikr
superior to either. It is gracefully shaped, and vespy

fleet. One of them, whoso fore-leg I had broken with a rifle hall,
escaped firom our fleetest horse (Castro’s), after a chase of nearly
thirty minutes. The mountain goat is found on the great platforms
of the Rocky Mountains, and also at the broad waters of thelivofa
Brasos and Colorado. Tliough of a very timid nature, they are
superlatively inquisitive, and can be easily attracted within rifle
range, by agitating, from behind a tree, a white or red
chief. *

We were also often visited, during the night, by ratttesmtflces,

I

J30 TB A»I> or

who UlteA ainazmglj the Uesbt and soflnebS of our blankets Tliey
were iig|relc<Haao customers, to be sure, but vet there were some
Other's of D»Moh we were still more in dread, ammijj them I may
obbss, as the ^sfliest ani most d jadly, the prairie tai intula a Urpje
bpider, biggror than a good-«ized chicken < gg, hairy, like a b( ar,
with small blood-shot eyee and httle sharp tinth

One evening, we encamped n^ar a little spnng, two ralUs fipom
the Brasos Flndu^ no wood to burn, mar to us, Fit/gerald
started to fbtoh some As J hai e said, his was a sm ill w Ud hoi se,
he was imprudent enough to tie to its tail a joung tree, which he
had cut down The p<my, of course, got ongi v, and galloped fiiri- ’
ously towards the camp, surrounded bv a tioud of dust At this
sight, the other horses began to show signs of tenroi^ but w< were
^fSogtunate enough to secure them all before it was too Uti, or wi*
ebould have lost them ibr ever

It is astonishing to w ituess In the prairit s how pow t rfully tear
will act, not only upon the buffaloes and mustangs, but also rpon
tame horses and rattle Oven will run farther than horses, and
sonnieuf them haie been known, when undir tht inffncnie of tht
eStampede,or sudden fhght, toruntort^ miU s without 11 ei stopping,
axtdwhen last they halted, it was meielv betausc exhausted
nature would not allow them to go fur ther The Texl m f \pi dition,
on its way to Santa Fe, once lost nmety-foui horst s by an t st im¬
pede. I must say that nothing can exceed the gratidtur of tht
sight, Wheu a numerous body of cattle arc under its mtliu lu e Old
nags, broken by age and fatig te, who have been d* >^01 tt d on <u count
of their weakness, appear as wlH anl fresh as itoung colts As
soon as they are seised with that inexplicable ditad which fonts
them to fly, they appear to rogtm In a moment all tht powtis ol
the^ youth, with head and tail erett, and eyes glaring with fiar,
they rash madly on la a straight hnej the eaith tiembles und^r
their fbet, nothing can stop them—trees, abysses, lakes, rivers, or
ntQh&talns—i^thcy go ovm all, until natun can support it no more,
and the earth is strewed with their bodies

Bveu the otherwise waperturbable hoise of our »atant would
hulhetimss have an estathpede after his own fashion, lazy and st If-
Vfltted, pre:hviia^ walk to any othir kind of motion, this

adiiiSiiel shewed ha all its actions that he knew how to take care of
allifays selecting his quarters where the water was
*<Sibl thb gross tender But ho had a lery bad quality for a
jwairjie travellhlg nag, which w is lontmually placing his master m
some awkwittddfleiniiia One day that wc had stopped to refresh
ouilJfelfes near k Spru^, we removed the bridles from our horses,
to allow them tjs graze a few mlnuli s, but the cursed beast

took precisely that opportunity of giving us a sample of his estam-
Our Bngliah friend had a way, quite peculiar to himself, of

vtatm. 131

crowding upon his horse all his scleuti&c and ettlinary instruments.
He had suspsfnded at the ptuntnel of the saddle a therraOfnet||pa rum
calabash, and a coffoe-boilef j while behind the saddle hun^ store
of pots and cups, a frying-pan, a barometer, a sextant, and a long
spy-glass. The nag was grasiilg, when one of the instmnMmts ftdl
down, at whieh the beast commenced kicking, to shour his displea¬
sure. The mor(‘ he kicked, the greater was the rattling of the cups
Si^id pans; the brute was now quite terrified; we first secured our
own steeds, and then watched the singular and ridiculous movs-

Hmcnts of this estampedero.

^ He would mike ten leaps, and then stop to give as many kicks,
then shake himself violently and start off at full gallop At every
moment, some article, mathematical or culinary, would get looHe, tak
down, and be trampled Upon. The sextant was kieked to phwus#*
the frying-pan and spy-glass were put out of shape, the theriUUliUa*
ter lost Its mercury, and at last, by dlrit of shaking, rolling, and
kicking, the brute got rid of his entire load and saddle, aUd then
came quietly to us, apparently very well satisfied with himsiiK! 4md
with the dfunage he had done. It was a roost ludicrous sceite, and
defies all power of description; so much did it amuse us, thfb&WC
could not stop laughing for three of four hours.

The next day, we found many mineral springs, the waters ©f
xvhich were strongly irapregn ited with sulphur and Iron. We f^o
p is^cd by the bodies of ti\ e white raf-n, probably trappSrs, horribly
mangled, and evidently murdea^ by some Texlaii robbers. To¬
wards evening, w e crossed a large fresh Indian trail, going ip Mm
direction of the river Brasos, Und, following it, we soon Cgimil Up
with the tribe of Lepans, of which old Castro waS tho chief.

CIIABTElt XXI.

Th® Lepans were themselves going northward, and fbr a fhw dttjys
we skirted, in company with than, the western borders of tlm
Timbers. The immense prairies of ToJtas are for hundreds and hsm-
dreds of mites bordered on the east by a belt of thick and almost im-
pi netrable forests, called the Cross Timbers. Thehr breadth varies
from seventy to (me hundred miles. There the oalt and hiooory
grow tali and beautiful, but the general appearaiu^ of the countrpi
is poor, broken, and rugged. These forests abound with deer
bears, and soraethne the bnl^lo, when hotly pursued by tiie ftpy
dians in the prairies, will take refbge in its clos^ thickets.
of the trees contain hives of bees full of a very delioate hoJiey-«4Wt
great luxury of the piouoers along these borders. ‘ ‘

We now took our leave of the Lepans and our two lriind»|
who wouM fain have accompanied us to the Comahdhes, Imd tibwrs

J32 THAVELS AND ADVENTUBES Of

been a chance of reiiirnmg to civilization thi'ougli a safe road.
as it WiL Gabriel, Koelie, and I resumed our journey alone. Dur¬
ing twa or three days ■vve followed the edge of the wood, every
attempt to penetrate into the mterior proving quite useless, so
thick were the bushes and thorny briers. Twice or thrice w'c per¬
ceived on some hills, at a great distance, smoke and tires, but ^^o
could not t('ll wdiat Indians might be there encamped.

We had left the Timbers, and liad scarcely ad\ anced ten miles
in a westerly direction, w'hen a dog of a most miserable appear¬
ance joined our company. He was soon followed by two others a.s
lean and as weak as himself. They were evidently Indian dogs of ^
the wolf breed, and miserable, starred animals tliey looked, witlj
the ribs almost bare, while their tongues, parched and hanging
tSownw'ards, show ing clearly the want of water in these horrible
regions. We had ourselves been twenty-four hours without ha\ -
ing tasted any, and our horses were quite exhausted.

We were slowly descending the side of a swell in the prairie,
w’hemi a buffalo passed at full speed, ten yards before us, closely
pursued by a Tonquewa Indian (a ferocious tribe), mounted upon
a small horse, w'hose gracofhl form excited our admiration. This
savage was armed mth a long lance, and covered with a cloak of
deeivskin, richly ornamented, his long black hair undulatirif* witli
the breeze-

A second Indian soon followed the first, and they were c\ idcntly
so much excited with the chase as not to iJerceive us, although I
addressed the last one who passed not ten yards from me. Tlie
next day vre met with a band of Wakoe Indians, another sub-divi¬
sion of the Comanchos or of the Apaches, and not yet seen or oven
mentioned by any traveller. They were all mounted upon fine fall
horses, evidently a short time before purchased at the Mexican
settlements, for some of them had their shoes still on their leet.
They immediately olfered us food and w'ater, and gave us Iresh
steeds, for our own were quite broken dowm, and could scarcely
drag themselves along. We oncami>ed with them that day on a
beautiful spot, where our poor animals recovered a little. We
bled them freely, an operation which probably saved them to share
with us many more toils and dangers.

The next day we arrived at the Wakoe village, pleasantly
situated upon the banks of a cold and clear stream, wliieh glided
through a romantic valley, studded here and there with trees just
sufficient to vary the landsciapc, without concealing its beauties.
AH around the tillage were vast fields of Indian corn and melons;
ihrtber off numj^rons herds of cattle, sheep, and horses were graz¬
ing; while the women were busy drying buffalo meat. In this
hospitable village we remained ten days, by Which time we and our
beasts had entirely recovered from our fatigues.

MONgI£UB VXOliKT.

133

This tribe is certainly far superior in civiliatation and comforts
to !dl other tribes of Indians, the Shoshones not excepted. Tho
Wakoe wigwams are well-built, forming long streets, admftble for
their cleanness and regularity. They are made of long posts,
neatly squared, firmly fixed in the ground, and coverecl over with
tanned buflalo hides, the roof being formed of wlute straw, plaited
much finer tlian the common summer hats of Boston manufacture.
These dwellings are of a conical form, thirty feet in height and
fift(*on in diameter. Above the partition walls of the principal
room are two rows of beds, neatly arranged, as on board of packet
ships. The whole of their establishmtmt, in fact, proves that they
not only live at ease, but also enjoy a high degree of comfort and
luxury.

Attached to every wigwam is another dwelling of less dimcnsioin^
the lower part of w'hieh is used as a provision store. Here is always
to be found a great quantity of pumpkins, melons, dried peaches,
grapes, and plumbs, cured venison, and bufifalo tongues. Bound
the store is a kind of balcony, loading to a small room above it.
^riiat it contained I know not, though I suspect it is con-
secTafod to the rite*, of the Wakoe religion. Kind and hospita¬
ble as tliey were, tbev refused three or four times to let us pene¬
trate this “sanctum sanctorum,” and of course we would not pre^s
them further.

The Wakoes, or, to say better, thoir villages, are unknown,
eseopt to a few trappers and hunters, who will never betray the
kind hospitality they have received by showing the road to them.
Their quiet anti happiness have reignetl undisturbed for many cen¬
turies. The hunters and warriors themselves will often wander in
iht' distant st'ttlements of the Yankees and Mexicans to procure
seeds, for they are very partial to gardening; they cultivate tobacco;
in fact they are, 1 believe, the only Lidiaus w ho seriously occupy
themselves w 1th agriculture, which occupation docs not prev^t
them from being a powerful and warlike people.

As well as tho Apaches and the Comanchos, the Wakoes arc
always on horseback; they are much taller and possess more
bodily strength than either of these two nations, whom they also
surpass in ingenuity. A few years ago, three hundred Texiaos,
under the command of General Smith, mot an equal party of the
Wakoes hunting to the east of the Cross Timbers. As these last
had many fine horses and an immense provision of hides and cured
meat, the Texiaus thought that no^iing could be more easy than
routing the Indians and stealing their booty. They were, however,
sadly mistaken; when they made their attack, they were almost
all cut to pieces, and the unburied bones of two hundred and forty
Toxians remain blanching in the prairie, as a monument of their
own rascality and the prowess of tho Wakoes.

THATEXS A3tTi ADitCKrUBCS OF

m

and well treated a$ we were by that hhtd people,
we could hot remain longer with them; so we continued our toil¬
some solitary jourju y. The first day was extremely damp and
jfis^jSgy; a pack of sncakiiijj wolves were howlin'? about, within a few
yttrds of us, but the sun came out about eight o’clock, dispersing
the fog and also tho woUcs.

'We still continued our former course, and found an excellent
road for fifteen miles, when wb entered a singular tract ot land,
unlike anything we had ever before seen. North and south, as far
as the eye could reach, nothing could be seen but a sandy plain,
covered with dwarf oaks two and three feet high, and boAring
innumerable acorns ot a large size. Tliis desert, although our
horses sank to the ^ery l^n^e in tlu sand, we wire obliged
^0 cross; night came on lioforo the passage was effecled, and
we Were quite tired with the fatigues of the day. We were,
however, fortunate enough to find a cool and pure stream of
running water, on the opposite side of which the prairie had been
recently burnt, and the fresh grass wa>. ^ust springing up, here we
encamped.

We started the next morning, and ascended a high ridge; we
were in great spirits, little anticipating the horrible tragedy in
which we should soon have to play our parts. The counfiy before
us was evtremely rough and broken; we pushed on, however, buf¬
feting, turning, and twisting about until nearly dark, crossing and
rocrossing dei'p gullies, our prnguess in one direction impc ded by
gteep hills, and in anothtr by yawning ravines, unlil, hnally, we
encamp'd at night not fifteen miles from where vve bad started in
the morning During the day, w« bad found large plum patches^
and had picked a great quantity of this fruit, which we found sweet
and refreshing after our foil.

On tho following morning, after winding about until noon among
the hills, we at hngth reachtd a beautilul table land, covi red with
musqueet trees. So sudd'nly did we leave behind us the rough
and uneven tract of country and enter a level valUy, and so instan¬
taneous was the transition, that the change of scenery hi a theatre
w>s brought forcibly to our minds; it was turning from the bold
a^d Tvild scenery of Salvator Rosa to dwell upon the smiling land-
80aps> of a Potjssfn or Claude Lorrain.

On fUuting in fihe morning nothing was to be seen but a rough and
rn^ed sucoesiSion of hills before us, piled one upon another, each
litnfceeding hiU rising above l|i neighbour. At the summit of the
highest of these hills, the beautiful and fertile plain came suddenly
to view, and we^were immediately upon it, without one of us anti-
anytlur^ of tho kind. The country betwein t!ie Cross
Jl|mbers and tho Rocky Mountains rises by steps, if 1 may so call
rloem. The iraYeller journeying west meets, every fifty or sixty

HoKflXstm rtumt- 135

miles, with a rid^ of high hills; as he ascends these, heontici-,
pj,tr‘s a rorresponding descent upon the opposite side, but in most
mhtaiices, on reaching this summit, he finds before him a l|rvel and
IcrtiU* prairie. This is certainly the case south of the Eed River,
■whatever it may be to the northward of it.

We halt'd an hour or two on reaching this bcautifnl table land,
to rest ourscht^ and give our horses an opportunity to graze.
Little vllhigch of prairie dogs .wore scattered here and there, and
•we killed luiU-a-dozen of them for our evening me^l. The fat of
th(se animals, I liad forgotten to say, is asserted to be an infitl-
JibJc reined} lor the rheumatism.

In the evening, we again started, and eucatnped, an hour after
sun-down, upon the banks of a clear running stream. We had,
during the last part oi our journey, discovered the tops of three or
tour high mountains in the distance; we knew them to bo^'th^
Crow's,” by the description of them given to us by the Wakoes.

Early the next inoniing we were awakened by the warbling of
innumerable singing birds, per<‘hpd among the bushes along the
borders of the stream. Pleasuig as was the concert, we were ob¬
liged to leave it behind and pursue our weary march. Tiiroughout
tJie day w c had an excellent road, and when night came, we had
travelled about tiiirty-five miles. The mountains, the summits of
which W(* had perceiied the evening before, were now plainly
visibh, and answered to the desiTiptions of the Wakoes, as those
in the in igiibourliood of the narrows of the Red River.

Wo now considered that wc were near the end of our journey.
That night we swallowed a Very scanty supper, laid down to sleep,
and dreainrd of beaver tail and buffalo hump and tongues. The
next dfiy, at noon, we crossed the bed of a stream, which was evi-
duitly a large riser during the rainy season. At that time but
little water was found in it, and that so salt, it was impossible
et i n lor our horses to drink it.

Tow u 4 night, we came to the banks of a clear stream, the
M aters of which w'ero bubbling along, over a bed of golden sand,
running nearl.y north and south, while, at a distance of some six
niih s, and to our it‘ft, w as the chain of hills I have previously men¬
tioned; rising above the rest, wore three peaks, which roally de¬
served tin* R'lnie of mountains. Wo crossed the stream and an-
campc'd on the other side. Scarcely had w’c unsaddled our horSes,
when we perceived coming towards us a large party of Savages,
v^hoao war paint, with the bleeding scales hanging to their belts,
plainly showed the criMnd from wdiich they were returning. ThSy
encaniped on the other side of the stream, within a quarter bjf a
mile from us.

That night we passed watching, shivering, and fasihig, l&n* we
dared not light a fire in the immediate vicinity of our n^ghbotirs,

13fi fKAVIiJUS AK1> ADVJilKTrBSS OF

whom we could hear sinsfing and rcyoiciiig. The neit momiug,
long "before dawn, we stole away quietly, and trotted briskly till
noon, when we encountered a deep and almost impassable ravine.
There we were obliged to halt, and pass the remainder of the day
endeavouring to diseo^ er a passage. This oecupied us till night-
ftdl, and we had nothing to oat but plums and berries. JMelanelioly
were our thoughts wlnm we reflected upon the difficulties we might
shortly have to en(‘ounter; aiid gloomy were oiu’ tonbcnlings as
we wrapt ourselves in our blankets, h.dl-starved and oppress('d
with feelings of uucMrtdinty as to our presold position and our
ftiturc destinies.

The night passed without alarm, but the next morning w’e were
sickened by a horrible scene which w^as passing about lialf a mile
from us. A party of the same Indians, wliom we had seen the
bvoning before, Avero butchering some of their laptiAts, while
several others w ere busy cooking the flesh, and many w ere eating
It. We were rooted to the spot hy a thrill of hoiror w(» i-ould not
overcome; even onr horses seemed to km>w, by instinct, that some¬
thing horrible w’^as acting beloAV, ftr they suufled the air, and with
their ears pointed straight forward, trembled so as to satisfy us
that for the present we could not avail oursehes of their services.
Gabriel crept as near as hr could to tlie party, leaving ns await
his return in a terrible state of suspense and anxi(<ty. Wln ii he
rejoined us, it appeared our sight had not decoh ed us. There were
, nine more prisoners, who would probably luidcrgo the same late
on the following day; four, he said, were Comanches, the other
five, Mexican females—tw o young gii'K and three women.

The savages had undoubtedly mad^ an inroad upon San Miguel
or Taos, the two mo.st northern Sf’Ulements of the Mexicans, not
far from the Green Mountains where we were ourselves going.
What could we do? We could not tight the cannibals, avIio ivere
at least one hundred in number, and >et we could not go away and
leave men and women of our own colour to a horrible death, and a
tomb in the stomach of these savages. The idea eimld not be borne;
so we detmniued to remain and trust to ehanee or ProAidiuiee.

. After their abominable meal, the savages seatten*d about tho
prairie in every direction, but not breaking up tUeir camp, where
th<y left their prisoners, under the charge of tw elve ot their young
warriors.

Many plans did we propose for the rescue of the poor prisoners,
but they w0re all too wnld for execution; at last chance favoured
us, although we did not entirely succeed in oui* enterprise. Three
w four deer gallj&ped across the prairie, and passed not fifty yards
frofim the^^amp. A fine buck came in our direction, and two of
the jl^ians Avho wertJ left in chai*ge started after him. They
ru^ed in among us, and stood niulionless with oBtonisUment at

MOKSIfUB V101<£T. 1^7

finding neighbours they had not reckoned upon. We, however,
gave them no time to recover from their surprise: our knives and
tomahawks pwlbrmed quickly and silently the work of death; and
’ little remorse did we feel, after the scene wo had witnessed in the
moniing. We would have killed, if possible, the whole band, as
they slept, without any more eorapimctiou than we would have de¬
stroyed a nest of rattlesnakes.

The deer were followed by a small herd of buffaloes. We had
quickly saddled and secured our horses to some shrubs, in case it
should be nec<‘ssary to run for our lives, when we perceived the
ten remaining Indians, having fir.st examined and ascertained that
thf‘ir captives were well bound, start on foot in chase of the herd
of buffaloes; indeed, there were but about twenty horses in the
whole band, and they had been ridde'ii away by the others. Three*
of these Indians w e killed without attracting the attention of the
rest, and (labriel, without being discerned, gained the deserted
cncain})meiit, and severed the thongs which bound the prisoners.

Tlie Mexican women refused to fly; they were afraid of being
captiire<l and tortured; they thought they would be spared, and
taken to the wigwams of the savages, who, we then learned, be¬
longed to th(‘ tribe of the Cayugas. They told us that tliirteen
Indian prisoners had already been eaten, but no white people. The
(’omanche j^risoners armed themselves with the lances, bows, and
arrow s h ft in the camp, and in an hour after the^ passage of the
buffaloes, but two of the tw^elvo Indians were alive; these, giving
the war-whoop to rcwall their party, at last discovered that their
comrades had bt‘en killed.

At that moment the prairie became animated wdth buffaloes and
hunters; the Cayugas, on horseback, were coming back, driving
another herd before them. No time was to bt' lost if we wished to
save our scalps: we gave one of our knives (so necessary an article
in the wilderness) to the Comanches, who expressed what they
loll in glowing terms, and we left them to their own cunning and
knowledge of the localities, to make their escape. We had not
overrated their abilities, for some few days afterwards we met
them safe and sound in their own wigwams.

We galloped as fast as our horses could go for fifteen miles, along
the ravino which had impeded our journey during the preceding
day, when we fell in with a small creek. There wo and our horses
drank incrodiblo quantities of water, and as our position was not
yet very safe, we again resumed our inarch at a brisk trot. We
travelled three or four miles along the foot of a high ridge, and
discovered what seemed to be an Indian trail, leading in a zigaag
course up the side of it. This wo followed, and soon found our¬
selves on the sumndlt of the ridge. There we were again gratified
at finding spread out before us a perfectly level prairie, extending

IBAVEL'l AMT» A»VE»Tir|irs or

as far as tlio ey^ < oul<i reach; without a tree to hrenlt the monotony
of the scene.

We halted a few miniites to roat our horses, and for soin'» time
watched hit Mas ptssin^ in tUt* \aH y we had lolt* now l 3 nng a
thousand tcet 1 )o1om us. All we could pTccjvc at the distrtuee
Which we were, was that all was lu motion, and we thought tliat
our best p’jn was to lea^c as rniu h spare b twem us and the C.iyu-
^as as possible. Wc had br.d but little time to < onnr»e with th(‘
liberated Coraanches, ^et we had gained troni them tlial we were
in the right direction, and wire not mam dayS'iioiu our debt*'
nation.

At the mom^Tit we wire mounting ourhorsis. all was quid again
in the valley below. It was a loith' paumama, and, viewing it
tifirom the point where we stood, we could hardl> helii n tliat, some
hours previous, such a hornble tragedy had bem there p rloiined.
Softened down by the distance, there was a tranquillity about it
which app‘ared as if it never Inwl been broken. Tni' deip brown
skirting of bushes, on the sidts ol tiio diflinnt water-courses,
broke and varied the othcrwUse vast evlent ot vivid green Tlio
waters of the river, now reduced to a silver thread, wire o« i asiun-
ally brought to view by some turn m tin* stream, and ag iin lost to
sight under the rich foliag* on the baulks.

"We continued our lourn v’, and towards evening we d( scried a
large bear within a mile of us, and Roi he started in r hasf. Ilav mg
gained the otlur side of tlie anmul, he drove it dirceth towards
me. Corking a pistol, J ron * a short dist tiice in trout, to meet him,
and while m the act ot taking delibi ’^ati‘ aun at Die bear, Ihi n not
more than eight yards from m , I was surprised to see him turn a
summerset and commence kickm^ with his hind legs. Uns(‘en by
me, Gabriel had in pt up close on the opposite hide ol my horbc, and
had noosed the animal with his lasso, just as I was pulling the trig¬
ger of my pistol, Urmn soon disengaged himself from the lasso, and
made towards Koche, who brought him do^n with a single shot
below the car.

Gabriel and T then went on a-head, to select a place for passim?
the night, leaving our friend behind to cut up tlie meat, but we had
HQtginic half a mile, when our progress was suddenly checked by
a yawning abyss, or <htsm, some two hundred yards across, and
probably slv hundn d fevjt in d( iitb. The banks at this plai'e were
nearly perpendicular, and from the .sides projected sharp rocks,
and now and then tall raiicstic cislars. "We travelled a mile or
more along th^ banks, but p rctivmg It was too late to find a pas¬
sage across, yro (meamp d lu a little boUow undvr a cluster of
etdars. There wo were soon .ioin4 by Iloche, and wo were in¬
debted to Br4n tor an excellent ripist.

The immense chasm before ns ran nearly north and south, and

>IO^Bl£UQ VlOIiET.

m

we perceived that the current of the .sirc-aia, or rather torrci^t, be¬
low us, ran towards the former p^int. The novt morning we doter-
n'in'’(l to direct our stc•l)^ to the northward, and wc had gone but a
few miles bcfort‘ )d.rs;e buHalo or Jiidian trails were seen running in
a aouth-wpst direction, and, as w<' travelU^d on, others w'cre noticed
bearing more to the west. Ohlig, d to keep out some distance from
the ravine, to avoid the small gullies emptying into it, and the va¬
rious elbows which it made, about noon W'e struck upon a large
trail, rujining directly wtst; tlj|h we followed, and on reaching the
main chasm, touud that it U d to the only place whore there ssas any
chance of {-rossing. Here, too, we lound that innumerable trails
joimd, coming from every direction—proof conclusive that we
must cross here nr truM'l many weary miles out of o\u' way.

Dismounting Irorn our animals, we looked at the 3 ’'aw'ning abyss ,
belore us, and onr first impnssion was, that th<‘ pissago wjus im-
practicahh*. That bnilalofs, mustangs, and very probably Indian
liorse.s had crosbcd here, w'as evident enough, for a zizgag path
had l>p(*n worn down flie rooky and preeipitous sides; but our
three horsi s wpr<' unused t o sliding dowm or eliroliing pn'cipices,
and they drew liaek on being led to the brink of the chasm.

After many unsiu'ccssful attempts, I at last persua<lt»d my stood
to take llie path; the others followed. In some places thev went
along the ^e^r verge of rocky edge®, where a false step would have
precipitated them hundreds of fe«'t down, to instant dtath; in
others, they were compelled to slide dow'n passes nearly pTpvH-
Uieular. tLiabricl's horse was much bruised, but aiit^r an bourns
severe toil, wo gaiu(‘d the bottom, without sustaining any strious
in.inry.

Here w'c romain(‘d a couple of hour'?, to rest our weary aninialS;
and find the trail leading u}i the opposite side. This we iliscoverod,
and after great exertions sucetedid in clambering up to the top,
where w-c again found ourseha^s upon a smooth and level prairie.
On looking back, I shuddered to behold the frightful chasm we had
so suectf-htully pa‘'S<‘d, and thought it a mira<‘le that we hatl got
•'afely across; but a very short time afterwards, I was convinced
that the feat we hafl just accom])lished was a imre nothing.

After giving our animnls nnotlwr rest, we resurped our journey
across the dreary prairie. Nut a tree* nor bush could be s(»en in any
direction. A irrecn carpeting of short grass w'as spread over the
vast scene, with nought else to relieve the sight.

People may talk of the solitude of forests as mucli as tliiey
please, but thpre is a company in trees which one misses upon the
prairie. It is in the prairie, witli its occan-Iike waving of grass,
like a vast sea without landmarks, that the traveller feels a sickly
sensation of Imelinoss. There he fecks as if not in the world, al¬
though not ouftif it; there he finds no sign nor trace to tell him that

140 TRAVELS AND ADVENTVllEa OF

thfjre are, beyoud or behind him, countries where millions of his
own kindred are living and moving. It is in the prairie lhat man
really fee].*? that he is—alone.

Wc rode briskly along till sun-down, and encamped bj' the side
of a small water-hole, formed by a hollow in the prairie. The mus¬
tangs, as well as the deer and antelopes, had left this part of the
prairie, (h'iven nut, doubtless, by the scarcity of water. Had it not
been for occasional shower.s, while travelling through this dreary
waste, we should most inevitablyipliave perished, for even the im¬
mense chasms had no water in them, e\cept that temporarily
supplied by the rains.

CIIAPTEll xxn.

The miming broke bright and cloudless, the sun rising from the
horizon in all his majesty. Having saddled our horses, we pursued
our journey in a north-east direction; hut wo had scarcely pro¬
ceeded six miles before we .suddenly came upon an iinmenscj rent or
chasm in the earth, far exceeding in dejdh the one we had so much
difficulty in crossing the day l)efore. We wore not aware of its
existence until we were immediately upon it.s brink, when a s|)ec-
taclo exceeding in grandeur anything we had previouslj' ^vitnessisl,
burst upon our .sight. Not a tree nor bush, no outline whatever,
marked its po.sition or course, and we were lost in amazement and
wonder as we rode up and peered into the yawning abyss.

In depth it could not have been le.- ; than one thousand feet, in
width from three to five hundred y.'n-d.s, and at the point whei'o u e
fir.st struck it, its sides were nearly perpendicular. A sickly sen¬
sation of dizzine.ss was felt by all three of us, as we looked down, a,s
it were, into the ^ ery bowels of the earth. Helow, an occasional
spot of green relieved the eye, and a .stream of water, now visible,
now concealed behind some huge rock, was bubbling and foaming
along. Immense walls, columns, and, in some places, what ap¬
peared to be arche.s, fille<l the ravine, worn by the wa.t(T undouht-
0 di 3 % but so perfect in form, that we could with difficulty be
bfought to belkwe that the hand of men or genii had not been em¬
ployed in rai.sing them. The rains of centuries, falling upon the
extended prairie*, had here found a re.servoir and vent, and their
sjif^^ing and undermining of the different veins of earth and stone
formed tlmse strange and fanciful shapes.

Before reaching the chasm, we had crossed numerous large trails
leading a little, more to the w’estward than we had been travelling,
and we wore at once convinced that they all centered in a common
crossing clo.se at liand. In this conjecture wo were not disap-
^jpointed; half an hour’s trotting brought us into ^arge road, th(*
thoroughfare for j-oai's of millions of Jndian.s, bnlmoe.s, and inns-

MONSIEUR VIOLET.

14 ]

tangs. Perilous as the descc^nt appoared, we well knew there was
no other iM‘ar. M 3 ' horse was again started a-head, while the two
others followed. One#* in the narrow patli whieh led circnitousl}'
•down the deep descent, there was no possibility of turning hack,
and our maddened animals finall 3 ' reached tlie bottom in safety.

Several large stones were loosened from under our feet during
thi.s frightl'ul dt*scent. They would leap, dash, and thunder down
the preeipitou.s sides, and strike against the bottom far below ns
with a ter rifle crash.

AV(* Ibuncl a ninuing sirc'am at the bottom, and on the opposite
side of it a romantic dell eovereil with .short grass, and a few
scattered (;otton-woo<] trees. A large bod}' of Indians had en¬
camped (»n this spot but a iew' days previous; the blazed limbs of
the trees and oilier “signs,” showing that the}' had made it a rest¬
ing placi'. We, too, lialted a couple of hours to give our horses an *
opporlunily to graze and rest thcm-selves. The trail which led up
to the prairie on the opposite side w'as discovered a short, distance
abovi' u.s to the south.

As w'e journev'cd along this chasm, we were struck with admira¬
tion at the si range and fanciful figures made by the W’ashing of the
waters during the rainy season. In some places perfect walls,
fbrmiHl of a reddish ela}', were to bo seen standing; in any other
locality it would havi' been impossible to believe but that they had
been raised by the hand of man. The strata of which these walls
were compohod w'as regular in width, hard, and running perpendi¬
cularly; and Avhere the softer saml which had surrounded them
had been w ashed awa}', ilie strata still remained, standing in some
places one Imndred feet high, and three or four hundred in length.

Here and there, were columns, and .such wa.s their arcliitectural
regularity, luid so much of chaste gi'andeur was there about them,
that we w'crt' lust, in admiration and wonder. In other places the
breastworks of forts w ould be plainly visible, then again the frown¬
ing turrets of some castle of the olden time. Cumbrous pillars,
apparently ruins of some mighty pile, formerl}' raised to religion
or roya.lt 3 % were scattered about; regularity and perfect design
were strangely mixed up with ruin and disorder, and nature had
done it all. Niagara has been considered one of her wildest fi’eaks;
but Niagara falls into insignificance when compared with the wild
granit'ur of this awful chasm. Imagination carried rue back to
Thebes, to Palmyra, and the Edomite Protra, and I could not help
imagining tliat I w'as wandering among their ruijis.

Our passage out of IJns cliasm was effected with the greatest
difficulty. We were obliged to carry our rifles and saddle-bags in
our hands, and in clambering up a steep precipice, Roche’s hor.se,
striking his shoiilder against a projecting rock, was iireeipitated
some fifteen of tweflty feet, falling upon his back. We thought he

14;! I'ilAVUI.S AND AtoVfiNTUaES OP

must be killed by the fall; but singular enough, he rose imme¬
diately, shDok himself, and a second effort in climbing proved more
successful. The animal had not received the slightest apparent
iiijury.

Before evening we wei*e safely over, having spent live or six
hours in passing this chasm. Once more we found ourselves upon
the level of the prairie, and, after proceeding some hundred yards,
on looking back not a sign of the immense fi-ssure was visible. The
waste we were then travelling over was at least tw«) hundred and fifty
miles in width, and the two chasms I have mentioned were the
reservoir.s, and at the s!ime time the channels of escape, for the
heavy rains which fall upon it during the wet season.

This prairie is undoubtedly one of tho largest in the world, and
the chasm is in perfect, keeping with the size of the prairie. At
sun-down we came upon a water-hole, and encamped for the night.
By tlii.s time we were entirely out of provisions, and our .sufforiags
comnaenced.

The next day we resumed our jouimcy, now severely feeling the
cravings of hunger. During our journey we s.aw small herds of
deer and antelopes, doubtless enticed to the. water-courses hy the
recent rains, and towards night we descried a drove of mustangs
upon a swell of the prairie half a mile a-hcad of us. They were all
extremely shy, and Jilthough discharged our ritles at them, not
a shot was sueccssfuL In the evening wo encaraiiod near a water-
hole, overspreading an area of some twenty acrc.s, hut very shal¬
low. Large flocks of Spanish curlew’s, one of the bt'st-fLivourcd
birds that fly, were hovering about, ami lighting on it on all sides.
Had I been in pos.session of a douhle-barrellcd gun, w’iih .oinall
shot, we could have had at least one good meal; but as I had but a
heavy rifle and my bow and arrows, we were obliged to go to sleep
supperless.

About tw'O o’clock the next morning we saddled and resumed our
travel, journeying by the .stars, still in a norfh-oast direction. On
leaving the "Wakoc-s, we thought that wo could bt* not more than
one hundred miles from the Comanche encampment. We had now
ridden much more than that distance, and were still on the imm.’nse
prairie. To relieve ourselves from the horrible .su.sp..'ns 3 we were
push forward, with the hops of procuring .some provisions—
to get somewhere, in short, was now our object, and we prlfesed
onvt^i^d with the hope of finding relief.

Our horse* had, as yet, stiffered le.ss than ourselves, for the graz¬
ing i» the prairie had b(ien good; but our now hurried march, and
the difficult crtwssiiig of t he immense chasms, began to tell upon
them. At sunrise we halted near a small pond of water, to rest the
animals and all^ them an hour to feed.

■Wlffie stretched upon the ground, wo pereeiv^ a Urge aateloifm

]rtOXSl£L'^A TT^tl'S'. 14 ?

slowly approachin^—Tiow stopping, now walking a few stops neai’er,
t'vifloTitly inquisitivO as to who, or rather w'hat, we rtiight be. His
1 ‘nriosiiy cost liSiu his litc: with a woll-<lirectecl shot, Gabriel
'brouglit him down, and tnmo biit a starved man could appreclato
our delight. dVc cooked the bast part of the animal, made a plen¬
tiful dinn<»r, and resumed our jouni y.

For three days more the samv'' dreary spectacle of a boundless
prairie was still before u.s. Not a sign was visible that w'e were
nearing its edge. tVe journeyed rapidly on till near the middle of
th(‘ afternoon of the third day, when we noticed a dark spot a mile
and a half a,-head of us. At first we. thou.ght it to be a low bush,
but, as we, gradually nc'ared, it had nmro the aj»peafance of
a. rock, allhou.gh ludhing of the kind had been Seen from the time
we first came on the prairie, with the exception of those at the ^
chasms.

“A buffalo!” cried Roche, who.so keen eye at last penetrated the
rayster}'; “a buffalo; lying down and asleep.”

Ih're, then, was another chance fi)r many a good meal, and wo felt
onr courage in v igorated. Gabriel went a-head on fijot with his rifle,
in the hope that he shouhi at least get near enough to wound the
animal, while Roche and 1 made (‘very ^(reparation for the cha.se,
Diseuetimbcrlng our horses of every pound of .superffuou.s weight,
wc started for the sport, rendered doubl}’’ exciting by the memory
of our recent suffering ft’om starvation-

For a mile beyond w’here the buffalo lay, the prairie rose gra^
dually, and avo knew nothing of the nature of the ground beyond
Gabriel enpt till within a hundred and fifty yards of the animal,
which now hi'gan to move and show signs of \u\easinoss. Gabriel
gave him a shot; evifemtly hit, be rose from the ground, whisked
his long tail, and looked for a numicnt inquiringly about him. I
still kept my position a few' hundreil yard.s from Gabriel, who
reloaded Ids pUsce. Another shot foUow'ed: the butfaio again
lashed his sides, and then started off at a rapid gallop, directly to¬
wards the sun, evidently wounded but not seriously liurt.

Roehe and T started in pursuit, keeping close together, until Wm
had nearly reached the top of the, distant rise in the j)pairie. Here
ipy horse, being of a sup ‘rior raott’e, p.tssed tJiafe pf Roche, and, on
reaching the summit, 1 found the buli'alo still galloping rapidly,
a quarter of a mile's distance. The descent of the prairie was wry
gradual, and I could jffainly see every object within five miles. I
now applied the .spurs to roy hor.se, who dashed madly down the
declivity. Giving one look behind, I saw that Roche, or at leaat
his horse, had entirely given up the chase. The i)rairie was com¬
paratively smooth, and although I dared not to .si)ur my horso to
his full .speed, I was soon alongside of the huge animal. It was a
bull of the Iarge.st size, and his bright, glaring eyo-Mi# peeidftg

)44 TBAV£1<8<.AN1> AOVBNXUJtBS OF

out from his shaggy frontlet of hair, shewed plainly that he was
maddened by his wounds luul the hot pursuit.

It was with the greatest difficulty, so fierce did the bulfalo Iwk,
tliat I could get my horse ’W'ithin twenty yards of liim, and when I
fired one of my pistols at that distance, ray ball did not take efiect.
As the chase progressed, m 3 " horse came to his work morti kindly,
raid soon appeared to take a great interest in the exciting race. I let
him fall back a littl(\ and then, by dashing the spurs deep into his
sides, brought him up directij' alongsiihs and within three or four
3 'ards of tlio infuriated beast.

I fired my other pistol, and the buflfalo shrank as the ball struck
just bohiud the long hair on Ids shoulders. I w^as under such head-
iva}" when I fired, that I was obliged to pass the animal, cutting
across close to his head, and then again dropping iM'hind. At that
^moment, I lost iny rifle, and I had nothing left but my bow and
arrows; but by this time I had become so much excited by the
chase that I could not think of giving it up. Still at full spcH^d, I
strung my bow, once more put my spurs to mv' horse, lu* flew by
the buffalo’s right side, and I buried my arrow deep into his ribs.

The animal was now" frothing and foaming with rage and pain.
His e 3 "es w'ere like tw'o deep red balls of fire, his tongue was out
and curling upwards, his long tufted tail curled on high, or lashing
madl}" against his sides. A more wild, and at the same time, a
more magnificent picture of desperation I had never witness(‘d.

By this time ray horse was completel 3 " subjected to my guidaiico.
He no longer pricked his cars with fear, or sheered ofi' as I
approached the monster, but on the eontrar}’, ran tlirectly up, so
that I could almost touch the animal w hile bending my bow'. I hod
five or six more arrows left, but I r“solvt>d not to shoot again unless
I were sure of touching a vital part, and succeeded at last in hitting
him deep betwixt th<‘ shoulder and the ribs.

This wound caused the maddened beast to spring backwards, and
I dashed past him as ho vainly endeavoured to gore and o\ irtUrow
my horse. The chase was now over, 1 he buffalo stopped and soon
rolled on the ground perfectly helpless. 1 had just finished him
with two other arrows, when for the first time, I perceived that I
was no longer alone. Thirty or forty well-mounted Indians were
quietly looking at me in an approving manner, as if congratulating
me on njy success. They were the Comauches we had been so long
seeking for. I made myself known to them, and claimed the hospi¬
tality whlchj|l» year before had been oflTered to me by their chief,
“the Whitqjla^en.” They all surrounded me and welcomed me in
the most kind manner. Three of them started to fetch my rifle
and to :join my companions, who were some tight or nine miles
eastward, while I follow'od my new friends to their encampment,
which was but a few miles distant. They had been huffalo hunting,

ttomizvn TioLEt. Hb

and had just reached the top of the swell when they perceived me
and my victim. Of course, I and my two friends were well received
in th(‘ wigwam, though the chief was absent upon an expedition,

. and when he returned a few days after, a groat feast was given,
during whieh some of the young men .sang a little impromptu poem,
on the subject of my recent chase.

The Comanehes arc a ^oblo and most powerful nation. They
have Imndreds of villagers, between which they arc wandering all
the year round. They are well armed, and always move in bodies
of some hundreds, and even thousands; all active and skilful horse¬
men, living principally by the chase, and feeding occasionally, during
their distant excursions, upon the flesh of the mustang, which after
all, is a delightiul food, <*.specially when fat and young. A great
council of the whole tribe is hedd once a year, besides which there,
arejcjuarterly assemblies, where all important matters are discussed.
They h ave long been hostile to the Mexicans, but are less so now;
their hatred having been concentrated upon the Yankees and
Texians, \\liom thej’ consider as brigands- They do not apply
themselves to the culture of 1 he gimund as the Wakoes, yet they
own innumerable herds of horses, cattle, and sheep, which graze in
the northern pi-airies, and they are indubitably one oftla? wealthiest
people in the uorUl. They have a great profusion of gold, whicli
they obtain from the neighbourhood of the .San Soba hills, and work
it themselves into bracelets, armlets, diadems, as well as bits for
their horses, and oniaments to their saddles. Like all the Shoshone
tribe, tiny are most eU;gant horsemen, and by dint of carcasses and
good treatment, render the animals so familiar and attached to
them, that I ha >'0 often seen some of them following their masters
like dogs, licking their hands and shoulders. The Comanche young
women are exquisitely clean, good-looking, and but slightly bronzed;
indeed, the Spaniards of Andalusia and tho Calabrians«are darker
than they are. Their voice is soft, their motions dignified and
graceful; their eyes dark and flashing, when excited, but otherwise
mild, with a soft tinge of melancholy. The* only fault to be found
in them is that they are inclined to be too stout, arising from their
not taking exercise.

The Comanehes, like all the tribe of tho Shoshone breed, are
genca’oiis and liberal to excess. You can take what you please from
the wigwam—horses, skins, rich fur.s, gold, anything, in fact, except
their arms and their females, whom they love fondly. Yet they
are not jealous; they are too conscious of their own superiority to
fear anything, and besides, they respect too much the weaker sex
to harbour any injurious suspicion.

It is a very remarkable fact, that all the tribes who claim any
affinity with the Shoshones, the Apaches, the Comanehes, and the
Pawnies liOups, have always rejected with scorn any kind of spirits

14*i TttAVELa ANU ADVENTUUUS Ol'

\\ hen offered to them bj the traders. Tliey say that “ Shoba-wapo ‘
(the fire-water) is the gi’eate.st t^noniy of the Indian race, and that
the Yankees, too cowtu-dly to tight the Indians as men, have invented
this terrible poison to destroy tlioni without dans^er.

“We hated once the Spaniards ami the Watchinangoe.s (Mexi¬
cans),” they say, “but they were honourable men compared with
the thit'ves of Texas. The few' among the Spanish race who would
fight, did so as warriors; and they haiflaw.s among them which
punislu'd with death those who would give or sell this poison
the Indians,”

The consequence of this abstinence from spirits is, that these
western nations imjirove and increase rapidly, while, on the con¬
trary, the eastern tribes, in close contacrt with the Yanhees^
gradually disappear. The Sioux, the Osage, the WiniU'bego, and
“other eastern tribes, are very cruel in disposition: they show' no
mercy, and consider every means fair, how'ever treaclu'rous, to
conquer aJi enemy. Not so with the Indians to tiu'we.st of the
Rocky Mountains. They have a .spirit of chivalry which prevents
them taking any injurious mlvantage.

As I have before observed, an Indian will never iir*‘ his ride
upon an enemy who is arm<*d only v\ ith liis lance, bow and arrows;
or if he does, and kills him, ho will not take his scalp, as it would
constantly recall to his mind that lu' had killed a d^.fenceU'ss foe.
Private encounters with their enemies, the NiVvahoe.s and Arrapa-
hoes, are conducted as tournaments in the days of yore. Tw'O
Indians will run full speisl against each ollur with lluir well-
poised lance; on their shields with fc([U .1 skill the}- will rt ceivo the
blow'; then, turning round, they will salute each other cis a mark
of esteem from one brave foe to aeother.

Such incidents happen daily, but they will not be belitwed by tho
Europeans^ vvlio have the vanity of considering Ihein.selves alone
as possessing "/e sentiment <lu chevuh esque et dw beau:" besides,
they are accustomed to read so many horrible accounts of massa¬
cres committed by the savage.^f, that tlu' idea of a Red-skin Is al¬
ways associated in thtdr minds with tho picture of bui-ning stakes
and slow torture. It is a mistake, and a sad one. Would to God
tbat our highly civ ilized nation of Europe had to answer for no
more cruelties tlum those perpetrated hy tlu; numerous galhiut
tribes of western America.

Jk was present one day when a inilitary party came from Port
head of the Arkansa, to offer presents and make pro-
ot' to tho Comanche council. The commander made a
Ipl^'ispeecb, after which he offered 1 don’t know how many hun¬
dred ^llons of whisky. One of the ancient chiefs had not patience
to hear any more, and he ro.se full of indignation. His name was
Auku-wonae-zee, that is to say, “ho who is superlatively old.’*

MONStBUn VIOLBT.

147

“Silence,” ho said; “speak no more, double-tongued Oposh-ton-
ehoi; (Yaiik('t‘). 'W^hy comest thou, false-hearted, to pour thy de¬
ceitful %\onls into the ears of my young men? You tell us you
conu; ibr poaco, and you ofitred to us poison. Silence, Oposh-
toii-ehoc, lot ino hoar thoo no more, for 1 am an old man; and now
that 1 have one foot in the hap])y grounds of iirunortality, it pains
mo to think that I leave my people so near a nation of liars. An
errand of poaco! Dees tin' snake ofl'er peace to the squirrel w^hen
he kills liim with the ])oison of his dreaded glance? does an Indian
say to the iK'aver, he comes to offer peace when he sots his traps
for him? No! a paU'-faced ‘Oposh-ton-ehoe,’or a‘ Kish-emock
eomo-anae' (tlic b<‘iist that gets drunk and lies—the Toxian) can
alone thus lie to nature—but not a Red-skin, nor even a girlish
SVatchiuangoe, nor a proud ‘Shakanah' (FJagUshman), nor a
"MahamaUvkosh-ohoj* (open-heart, open-handed Frenchman.)

“Be silent then, man with the tongue of a snake, the heart of a
deer, and the ill-w ill of a scorpion; be silent, for I and mine despise
thee and thine. Yet four not, thou mayest depart in peace, for a
('omanebe is too noble not to respect a white llfig, even w'hen car-
rieil by a woll or a Ibv. Till sunset eat, but alone; smoke, but not
in our ealuniels; repose in two (tr three lodges, for we can burn
them aft<'r ]>olluliou; and then depart and say to thy people,ithat
the Conianclu* having but one tongue and one nature, can neither
speak w ith nor understand au Oposh-ton-ehoc,

“Take back thy ])rescnts; my young men will have none of them,
for tiny can accept nothing exce pt from a friend—and if thou
look'st at their feet, thou ahalt see their mocassins, their loggings,
even their bridles are braided with the hair of thy people, perhaps
of t by l)rot hers. Take thy ‘ Shoba-w'apo' (tire-wal er), and give it to
drink to thy warriors, that wo may see them raving and tumbling
like swine. Silence, and a^vay w'ith the(>; our squaws.will follow
ye on yoiir trail for a mile, to bum even the grass ye have trampled
upon near onr village. Awviy with yon all, now and for ever! I
liave said!!!”

The American force was numerous and well armed, and a mo-
inetit, a single moment, deeply wounded by those bitter taunts,
they looked as if tlu'y w'ould fight and die to resent the insult; but
it was only a triujsicnt feeling, for they had their orders and they
Went away scorned and humlliatt'd. P(‘rbaps, too, an inward voiee
whispered to them that they deserved their shame and liumillation;
perhaps the contrast of their conduct with that of the savages
awakf'ncd in them some better feeling, which had a long time ce-
mained dormant, and they were now disgusted with themselres and
their odious policy.

As it was, they departed in silence, and the last of their lliw had
vanished under the horizon before the Indians could smother the

I4tt TUAVEtS ANU ADVENTUftES OV

indignation and i-osentment uliieh the strangers hod excited wilhiu
their hearts. Days, however, passed away, and with them the
recollection of tho event. Afterwards, 1 chanced to meet, in the
Arkansas, with the colonel who commanded; he was gi^■ing a
v&j strange version of lus expedition, and as I heard facts so dis¬
torted, I could not help repeating to myself tho words of Auku-
wonze-zee, “The Oposh-ton-ehoc is a double-tongued liar!”

CUAPTEK XXIII.

One morning, Roche, Gabriel, and myself were summoned to tlie
Great Council lodge; there w’e met with the four Coman dies whom
pWe had rescued some days before, and it would be difficult to trans¬
late from their glowing language their warm expressions of friend¬
ship and gratitude. We learned from them that before the return
of the Cayugas from the prairie, they had concealed themselves in
some crevices of the earth until night, when they contrived to seize
upon tliree of the horses and effect their escape. At the pas.sage of
the great chasm they had found the old red sasit of Rodi<', which
they produced, asking at the same time permission to keep it as a
tokih from their Pale-faco brothers. We shook hands and ex¬
changed pipes. How noble and warm is an Indian in his feelings!

In the lodge we also perceived our friend of former days,
** Opishka Koaki” (tho White Raven), but as iie w'as about to ad¬
dress tho assembly, we restrained from renewdng our acquaintance,
and directed all our attention to what was transacting. After the
ordinary ceremonies, Opishka fCoaki commenced:—

“ Warriors, I am glad you have so quickly understood my mes¬
sages; but when does a Comanche turn his back on receiving the
vermilion from his chief? Never! You know 1 called you for
war, and you have come. ’Tis well. Yet, though I am a chief, I
am a man. I may mistake; I may, now and then, strike a wrong
path. I will do nothing—attempt notliing—without knowing tho
thoughts of my bravo warriors. Then hear me 1

There live under the sun a nation of lled-skins, whose men arc
cowards. Never striking an enemy but when his back is turned,
or when they number a hundred to one. This nation crawls in the
prairies about the great chasms; they live upon carrion, and have
no other horses but those they can steal from the deer-hearted
WatchiniB|goes. Do my warriors know such a people ? Let them
[i^^eakl ihearl”

At that moment a hundred voices shouted the name of Cayugas.
“i knew it, exclaimed the chief,there is but one such a people
with a red skin; my warriors are keen-sighted, they cannot be
mistaken. Now we Comanches never take the scalp of a Ga 3 ruga

MOHUUBUK VIOLET.

149

any more tlian that of a hedge-hog; we kick.them out of our way
when they cross our path; that's all. Hear me, my braves,' and
believe me, though I will speak strange words. These reptiles have
thought that because we have not killed them as toads and scor¬
pions, it was because we w'ere afraid of their poison. One thousand
Oayiigas, among idher prisoners, have taken eight Comanches;
tlie}'" have eaten four of them; they would have eaten them all, but
the braves escaped; they are here. Now, is an impure Cayuga a
fit tomb for the body of a Comanche warrior ? No! I read the
answer in your buniing eyes. "SVliat then shall we do? Shall we
i’hastise them and give tholr carcases to the crows and w'olves ?
What say ray warriors: let them speak ? I hoar!"

All were silent, though it was evident that theii’ feelings had
liad been violently agitated. At last au old chief rose and addressed*
^pishka:—

“ Great chief, said he, “ why askest thou ? Can a Comanche and
warrior think in any way but one ? Look at them! See you not
into tlieir hearts ? Poreeive you not how fast the blood runs into
their veins? "Why ask? I say; thou knowest well their hearts’
voice is but the eclio of thine own. Sa.y but a word—say, ‘Let
us go to the CJayugas!' Thy warriors will answer: ‘ We are
ready—show us the pathChief of a mighty nation, thou hast heard
my voice, and in my voice are heard the thousand voices of thy
thousand warriors."

Opishka Koaki rose again. “ I knew it, but 1 wanted to hear it,
for it does my lieart good; it makes mo proud to command so
many bravo warriors. Then to-morrow \>'e star!., and we will
hunt the Cayugas even to the dec'pest of their burrows. I havo
said!”

Then the four rtiseued prksoner.s recounted how they had been
taken, and uliat sutferings they had undergone. They spoke of
their unfortunate companions and of their horrible fate, which they
should havo also shared had it not been for tlio courage of the
three Pale-face brothers, who killed five Cayugas, and ent their
bonds; they themselves killed five more of their cowardly foes
and escaped; but till to-day they had had no occasion of telling to
their tribe the bravery and generosity of the three Pale-thces.

At this narrative all the warrior.s, young and old, looked as
though they were personally indebted to us, and would have come,
one and all, to shake our hands, had it not been for the inviolable
rules of the council lodge, which forbids any kind of disorder. It
is probable that the scene had been prepared beforehand by the
excellent chief who wished to introduce us to his warriors under
advantageous circumstances. He Waved his hand to claim atten¬
tion, and spoke again.

It is now twelve moons, it is more! I met Owato Wanishk and

150 T11AVEL8 AND ADVENl'CHKS 01

his two brothers. He is a chief of the great Stoshones, who are
our grandfathers, far—far under the sotting of the sun beyond the
big mountains. His two brothers are two groat w’arriors from
powerful nations far in the east and beyond tlio Sioux, the Chippii-
wttS,beyond the ‘Oposh-ton-ehoc,** even beyond tin; deep salt-water.
One is a ‘Shakanah* (Englishman), tho other a *Naim(*wa* from
the ‘ Mahamate-kosh-ohoj * (an exile from tho Eronoh). They are
good and they are brave; they have loaimod wisdom from tho
‘JdarcotaKonayas* (priests), and OwatoWanisha knows howto
build strong forts, which he can bet U r defend than the AVatchinan-
goes have defended theirs. I have invited him and his brother to
come and taste tlic buffalo of om* prairies, to ride our horses, and
smoke the calumet of friendship. They have come and will remain
Vith us till we ourselves go to the big .stony riv<r (the Colorado of
the West). They have come; they ai-e our guests; the beht we ca..
command is their own already; but they are chiefs and warriors.
A chief is a chief everywhere. We must treat them as chiefs, and
let them select a band of waxTiors for themselves to follow them
tUl they go away from us,

“You have heard what our scouts have said; they would have
been eaten by the Cayvigas, had it not. be(<n for our gxie.sts, who
hare preserved not only the li\es of four m('n—that is nothing—but
tho honour of the tribe. 1 need say no more; I know my young
men; I know my wandors; I know they will love the strangt'rs as
chiefs and brothers. I have said.”

Having thus spoken, he Vk alked slo'\ ly out of the lo<lgc, wliicli
was immediately deserted for the green lawn before the village.
There we w'ero sumptuously entertained by all the principal chiefs
and warriors of the tribe, after which they comlucled us to a now
tent, whieh they had erected for its in the middle of their principal
square. There we found also six miigniticent horses, well capari-
som^d, tied to the po.sts of tlie tent; they were tho prcsent.s of tlic
chiefs. At a few steps from the door w'as an immense shield, .sus¬
pended upon four posts, and on w'hieh a beaver, the head of an
e^^le, and the claws of a bear were admirably p:iluted—the first
totem for me, tho second for Gabriel, and tlie tlxird for HoeUe. We
gratefully thanked our ho.spitable hosts, and retired to rest in our
rich and el<^ant dwelling.

The next morning, we aw'oke just in time to witness the ceremony
of departttbl a war party, already on horseback, was waiting for
th(^ chief. At the foot of our .shield were ono hundrt'd lances,
owners l^longed to tho family and, kindred of tho Indians
wiroi we had ruscuod froin the Cayugas. A few" minutes after-
tvards, the owniTs of the weapons appeared in the square, w^ll

* t

AmericanE.

MOJSSJliUJi VIOlitlT.

ii>i

inoimttMl Sind arnuxl, to plsien theinselv<>8 at our entire disposal.
We ('onltl not put our aut hority to a blotter uso than by joining our
jtriends in their expedition, so W'hen the chief arrived, surrounded
b.V the elders of the tribe, Gabriel advanced towards him.

“ Chief,” he said, “ s»nd wise men of a brave nation, you have
conferred upon us a trust of w'hieli we arc proud. To Owato
Waiiisba, p.>rbaps it was due, for be i.s mighty in his tribe; but 1
and the Shakanaii are no chiefs. We wdll not decline your favour,
but we must deserve it. Tl>e Young Beaver will remain in the
village, to learn the nisdom of your old men, but the Eagle and the
Bear must, and will aecompany you in your expedition. You have
given them brave warriors, who would scorn remain at home;
we will follow you."

This proposition was rc'ceived with flattering acclamations, and’
^he p.illant armj' .soon afterwards left tiie village on it.s mission of
revenge.

The Cnyngas were, before that expedition, a powerful tribe,
about w'hoin litlh' or nothing had ever lieen written or known. In
their customs and manners of Ihing, they resemble in everyway
the (’hd) Indians (>[ the Colorado, who ivere destroyed by the
sniall-pox. Tliey led a wandering prairie life, but generally were
too cowardly to fighi well, and too inexpert in bunting to surround
themstdves with <-»)mfo)-fs, even in the midst <»f plenty. Like the
Clubs, they are cnnnihals, tiiough T suspect they would not eat a
white man. They hav(‘ but few liorses, and these only when they
couhl be pro<*ur(‘d by slc'alth, j’or, almost always starving, the}’’
could not afford to breed them, always eating the colts before they
could be ustd'ni.

Tiieir grounds lie in the vicinity of tbe great fork of the Bio
Puerco, by latitude .‘ir>‘’, and longitude 10,5” from Greenwich. The
w hole nation do not po.s.sess half-a-dozi'ji of rifles, most of all of
them being armed with clubs, bow s, and arrow s. Some old Coman-
ches have assurotl me, that the Cayuge country abounds with fine
golik

While I was with the Comauehes waiting the return of the
cxpjilition, I had an accident wliich nearly cost me my life.
Having leai'mnl that there were many fine bassixs to bo fished in a
stream some twenty miles ofl', I started on horseback, with a view
of pas.sing the night tlure. I took with me a buffalo-hide, a blan¬
ket, and a tui cup, and two Ijour.s before sunset 1 arrived at the
spot.

As the weather had been dry for some time, I could not pick
any worms, so I thought of killing some bird or other small animal,
whose tl(^sh would answer lor bait. N^ot falling in with any birds,

J determined to seek for a rabbit or a frog. To save time, 1 lighted
a/ire, put my water to boil, spread my hide and blanket, arranged

10:2 TKAVEL8 XkD AI)VJt:NTUUjb':l UF

my saddle for a pillow, and then went in search of bait, and
sassafras to make tea with.

While looking for sassafras, I perceived a nest upon a small oak
near to the stream. I climbed to take the young ones, obtained
two, which I put in my round jacket, and looked about me to seo
where I should jump upon the ground. After much turning about,
I suspended myself by the hands from a hanging branch, and
allowed myself to drop down. My left foot fell tlat, but under
the soft sole of my right mocassin I fdt smnething alive, heaving or
rolling. At a glance, I i>erceivod that my foot was on the body of
a large rattlesnake, with his head just forciug itself from under
my heel. ^

Thus taken by surnfrise, t .slotKl motionless and with my heart
‘throbbing. The repfile* worked itself fr(;e, and twisting round my
leg, almost in a second, bit me two or three times. Tlie sharj^ paid
which I felt from the fangs recalled me to consciousness, and though
I felt convinced that I was lost, T resolved that my destroyer should
die also. With my bowie knife 1 cut its body into a hundrt'd
p'eces; walked away very ,sad and gloomy, and sat upon my bb...
ket near the fire.

How’ rapid and tumultucms were my tluuiglits! To di<‘ so young,
and such a dog’s death! My mindrevertt‘d the happy scenes of
my early youth, when 1 had a mother, and played so merrily among
the golden grapes of sunny France, and when later I wandered
with my father in the IToiy Land, in Italy and Egypt. J also
thought of the Slioshoncs, of Foclie an i Gabriel, and 1 sighed.- It
W'as amoral agony; for the physical pain had subsided, and ray
leg was almost benumbed by ijara<y.sis.

The sun w'ent down, and the last carmine tinges of his departed
glory reminded me how soon iny sun would set; then the big burn¬
ing tears smothered me, for I was young, very young, and I could
not command the courage and resignation to die such a horrible
death. Had J been wounded in tlie field, leatling my brave Sho¬
shones, and hallooing the war-wiioop, 1 Avould have eared very
little about it—but thus, like a dog! It was horrible! and I dropped
my head upon my knees, thinking how few hours ! had now to live.
; I w^as awak(*ned from thkt absorbing tf)rpor by my pfx>r horse,
’/ho was busy licking my ears. The faithful animal suspected
something was wrong, for usually at such a time I would sing
Spanish ditties or some Indian war songs. Sunset was also the
time when T brushed and patted him. The intelligtmt l)rute knew
that I suffered, and in its own way showed me that it partici¬
pated in my affliction. My water, too, was boiling on the fire, and
the bubbling of the waiter seemed to be a voice raised on purpose to
divert my gloomy thoughts. “Aye, boil, bubble, evaporate,” ex-
oloiiped'l; “wliiEt do J care for w ater or tea nowr”’

MONSlEUll%JOIi3b'Jf. 163

Scarcely had I finished these words when, turning suddenly
my head round, my attention was attracted by an object be¬
fore me, and a gleam of hope irradiated my gloomy mind.
Cloae to my feet I behold five or six stems of the rattlesnake mas¬
ter weed. I well knew tf)e plant, but I had been incredulous as to
its pro’pcTties. Often had 1 heard the Indians speaking of its
virtues, but I had never believed them. “ A drowning man will
seize at a floating straw.” By a violent effort I got up on my legs,
went to fetch my knife, which I had left near the dead snake, and
1 commenced digging for two or three of the roots, with all the
energy of despair.

These roots I cut into small slices, and threw tiKem in the boiling
water. It soon produced a dark green decoction, which I swal¬
lowed; it was evidrmtly a powerful alcali, strongly impregnated’
^ith a flavour of turpentine. I then cut my mocassin, for my foot
was already s tvollen to twice its ordinai'y size, bathed the wounds
witli a few 'Irops of the liquid, and chevviug some of the slices, I ap-
plipa them as a poultice, and tied them on with my scarf andliand-

••chief. I tht.ii put some more water to boil, and, half an hour
.fterw'ards, having draiilc another pint of the bitter decoction, I
drew' my blanket ovi'r m(\ In a minute or less after the second
drauglit, my brains whirled and a strange dizziness overtook mo,
■whieh was followed by a powerful perspiration, and soon after¬
wards all w as blank.

The next morning I was a'wakened by ray horse again licking me;
1)0 woud(o’C'd why I slept so late. I felt my head ache dreadfully,
,and J jiirceived that the biuming rays of the sun for the last two
hours had been darting upon my uncovered face. It W'as some
tiiru' belbr(! I coidd collect<‘d my thoughts and make out where I
was. At last, the memory of the dr(‘adful incident of the previous
evening broke upon my mind, and t regretted 1 had not dietl dur¬
ing niy unconsciousness; for I thought that the weakness I felt w’as
an effect of the poison, and that I should have to undergo an awful
lingering death. Yet all around me, nature was smiling; thousands
of birds w'ere singing their morning concert, and, at a short dis¬
tance, the low and soft murmuring of the stream reminded me of
my excessive thirst. Alas! well hath the Italian bard sung:—

“ Neesun maggior dolor© ’

CJie riccordarsi del tempo felice
Nell* miserla!”— Daktb.

As I lay and reflected upon my utter helplessness, again my
heart swelled, and my tears flowed freely. Thirst, however gave
me the courage w'hich the freshness and beauty of nature had not
been able to inspire me with. 1 thought of attempting to rise to
fetch some water; but first I slowly passed my hand down my

154

TRAVELS AN»*^AbVENTlJRE8 OT

thigh, to feel tny knoo. I thought the inflauimation would have ren¬
dered it as thick as my waist. My hand was upon my knee, and
so sudden was tlie shock that raj heart ceased to heat. Joy can
be hiost painful; for I felt an acute p.iug through ray breast, as
fhom a blow of a dagger. Wlien I raoved my finger across the c.ap
of ray knee, It was quite free from iutlammatiou, and perfe<;tily
sound. Again there w'as a re-action. Aye, thought 1, ’tis all on
the ancle; how can T escape? Is not the poison a deadly one? I
dared not throw away the blanket and investigate further; I felt
weaker and weaker, and again covered my head to sleep.

I did sleep, and when I awoke this time 1 felt myself a little in¬
vigorated, thougff my lips and tongiu' were quite parched. I
^remembered evervihing; down iny hand slided; I could not reach
my ancle, so I put up my knee. I removtul the scarf and the ]wul-
tice of master weed. My handkerchief was full of a dried, grecA,
glutinous matb'r, ami the wounds looked clean. Joy gave me
strength. I went to the stri'am, drank plentifully, and washed.
I still felt very feverish; and, although I was safe irmn the imme¬
diate effects of the poison, [ knew that 1 had y(‘t (o snfh'r. Orab'-
ful to Heaven for rny preservation, I saddU'd my fa.ithful com¬
panion, and, wra])plng m^'self closely in my buffalo hide, I set off
to the Coman-.he camp My seusi's had letY me before' 1 arrived
there. They found me on iho gmund, and my hor.^e standing
by me.

Fifteen day.s afterw'ards f awoke to eoiiseiousuess, a w'-ak ;nel
emaciated being. During this wliolc li.ne, 1 bad been raving under
a cerebral fever, df^'ath hovered ovei mo. It appi'ars that I had
received a conp-d^soleU in addition to my other rnischanees.

When I returned to consciousness, I was astonished to see Ga¬
briel and Roche hy my side; the expedition had returned trium¬
phant. The Cayugas’ villages had been burnt, almost all their
warriors destroyed, and those wdio remained had sought a shelter
in the fissures of the (‘arti), or in the passes of the moimtains un¬
known to any but, tlu-insclves. Two of the Me.viean girls bad also
lW3en rescued, but what had become of the others they could not
tell.

The kindness and cares of my friends, with the invigorating in¬
fluence of a beautiful clime, soon restored me to comparative
health, but it W’as a long time before I was strong ouougli to ride
and resume my former exercise. During that time Gabriel nuide
frequent excursions to the southern and even to the Mexican settle-
tnehts, and on the return from his last trip he brouglit up news
Which caused the Indians for that y.'ar to forsake their hunting,
and remain at home. General Lamar and liis associates had hit
upon a, plan, not only troachorou.s, but in open defiance of all the
1^W8 ol uatiort*;. But what, indeed, could be expected from a

MONBia^Utt VIOLlit. 155

paoi)1e who murdered their gfuestg, Invited by them and under the
sanction of a white flag? I refer to the massacre pf the CJomanche
.t hiefs at San Antonio.

The President of Mexico, Bustamente, had a view to a cessation
of hostilities with Texas. The Texians had sent ambassadors to
negotiate a recognition and treaty of alliance and friendship with
otlior nations; they had despatched Hamilton in England to sup¬
plicate the cabinet of St. James’s to lend its mighty influence to¬
wards the recognition of Texas by Mexieo; and while these negotia¬
tions were pending, and the peace with Mexico still in force, I^amar,
in defiance of all good faith and honour, was secretly preparing an
('xpt'dltion, which, under the dlsgiiisi‘ of a morearttile caravan, was
intondtid to conquer Santa F6 and all the northern Mexican pro¬
vinces. This exp<jdition of the TexiaUvS, as it would pass through'
territoH of thfi Comanches, whoso villages, &c. if unprotected,
would, in all probability, have been plundered, and their women
and children murdered, induced the Comanches to break up their
camp, and return home as speedily as possible.

CHAPTER XXIV.

Du KING my convalosctmcc, my tenC or I shoxild say, the lawn be¬
fore it, becania a kind of general divan, were the warriors and
ciders of the tribe would assemble, to smoke and relate tho strange
storie.** of days gojie by. Some of them appeared to me particu¬
larly beautiful; I shall, therefore, iiarrate them to the reader. One
old chief began as follow.s:—

“ I will tell ve of the Shkoto-nah Pishkuan, or the boat of fire,
when 1 saw it for the first tim >. Since that, the grass lias withered
filleen times in the prairies, and I have grown weak and old.
Then I was a warrior, and many scalps have I taken on the eastet^
shores of the Sabine. Then, also, the Pale-faces, living in the
prairies, were good; we fought them because we were enemies,
but they never stole anything from us, nor w^o from them.

“Well, at that time, we were once in the spring hunting the buf¬
falo. The Caddoes, who are now a small tribe of starved dogs,
were then a largo powerful nation, extimding from the Cross Tim¬
bers to the waters of the great stream in tlie cast, but they were
gamblers and drunkards; they would sell all their furs for the
*Siiol>o-wupo’ (firt'-water), and return to their villages to poison
their squaws, and make brutes of their cliildren. Soon they got
nothing mon* to soil, and as they could not now do Avithout the
‘ Shoba-wapo,* t hey began to steal. They would steal tho horses and
oxen of the PaU’-faces, and say ‘the Comanches did it.’ When
they killed trappjrs or travellers, they would go to the fort of the
Yankees and say to them, ‘ Co to tho wigwams of the Comanches,
and you will see the scalps of your friends Jiangiugupon long poles.*
But we did not care, for we knew it was not true.

“ A long tiim passed away, u hen the evil spirit of the Qaddocs

lo6 TJtA.V£L3 AND ADVENTUBKS OF

wUspered to them to come to the villa^s of the Oomanchcs while
they were himting, and to take away with them all that they could.
They did so, entering the war-path as foxes and owls, during night.
Wheai they arrived, they found nothing but squaws, old women,
and little children. Yet these fought well, and many of the Cad-
does were killed before they abandoned their lodges. They soon
fbund us out in the hunting ground, and our gi’eat chief ordered me
to start with five hundred warriors, and never return until the
Caddoes should have no home, and w'ander like deer and starved
wolves in the open prairie.

“ I followed their track; first, I burnt their great villages in the
Cross Timbers, and then pursued them in the swamps and cane
brakes of the east, where they concealed themselves among the
long lizards of the water (the alligators). We, however, came up
with them again, and they cros.sed the Sabine, to take shelter
among the Yankees, where they had another village, which w'as
' their largest and their richest. We followed, and on the very shores
of their river, although a thoiusand miles from our owft country,
and w here the waters aro died with the red clay of the soil, wo
encamped round their wigw ams and prepared to conquer.

“ It w'as at tlie gloomy season, when it rains night and day; the
river was high, the earth damp, and our young braves shivt'ring,
even under their blankets. It w’as evening, w hen, far to the south,
above one of the windings of the stream, 1 saw^ a thick black smoke
rising as a tall pine among the clouds, and 1 watched it closely. It
came towards us, and as the sky dark(‘ned and night came on,
sp^ks of fire showed the progress of the straagt? sight. Soon
noises were heard, like those of the mountains when the (m il spirits
are shaking them; the sounds were awful, solemn, and regular, like
the throbs of a warrior's heart; and now' and then a sharp, slirill
scream would rend the air and awake other terrible voices in tho
forest.

“It came, and deer, bears, panthers were passing among us,
madly flying before the dreaded unknown. It came, it flew, in*arer
and nearer, till we saw it plainly with its tw o big mouths, spitting
fire like the burning moimtains of the w est. It rained very hard,
and yet we saw all. It w^s like a long fish, shaped like a canoe,
and its sides had many eyes, full of bright light as the stars above.

“I saw no one with the monster; he was alone, breaking the
waters and splashing them wdth his arms, his legs, or his fins. On
the top, and it was very higli, there w'as a square lodge. Once I
thought I could see a man in it, but it was a tancy, or perhaps the
soul of the thing, w'atching from it.s hiding-place for a prey which
it might seize upon- Happily it was dark, very dark, and being in
a hollow along the banks, we could not be perceived, and the dread¬
ful thing passed.

The Caddoes uttered a loud scream of fear and agony; their
hearts were melted. We said nothing, for we were Coraanches and
warriors, and yet I felt strange and was fixed to where I stood. A
matt is but a man, and even a Red-skin cannot struggle with a
sp]^. The scream of the ('addot's, how'ever, frightened the mon¬
ster, its flanka opened and discharged some tremendous *anim
tekis’ (thunder?) on the village. I heard the crashing of the logs,
the splitting of-the hides covering the lodges, and when the smoke
was all gone, tfe left a smell of powder; the monster was far, far off,

UOKSISUB VlOtSl*. J57

and there was no trace of it left, except the moans of the wounded
and the lamentation of the squaws among the Caddoes.

I and my young men soon recovered our senses; we entered the
,\Ulagt>, burnt everything, and killed the warriors. They would
not tight, but, as they were thieves, we destroyed them. We re¬
turned to our own villages, every one of us with many scalps, and
sini'o that time the Caddoes have never been a nation; they wan¬
der from north to smith, and from east to west; they have huts
made with the bark of trees, or they take shelter in the burrows of
th(? prairie dogs, with the owLs and the snakes; but they have no
lodges, no wigwams, no villages. Thus may it be with all the foes
of our great nation.”

This is an historical fact. The steamboat “Beaver** made its
first exploration upon the Red River, some eighty miles above the
French settlement of Nachitochy, just at the very time that the
Comanches were attacking the last Caddoe village upon the banks *
^ the Red River. These poor savages yelled with terror w'hen the
strange mass passed thus l)efore them, and, either from wanton
cruelty or from fear of an attack, the boat fired four guns, loaded
with grape-shot, upon the village, from which they were not a
hundred yards distant.

The following is a narrative of events which happened in the
time of Mosli Kohta (buffalo), a great chief, hundreds of years ago,
when the uufortimate La Salle was shipwrecked upon the coast of
Texas, while endeavouring to discover the mouth of the Mississippi.
Such records are very numerous among the great prairie tribes;
they bear sometimes the Ossianic type, and are related every
evening during the z^onth of February, when the “Divines” and
the elders of the nation teach to the young men the traditions of
former days.

“ It was in the time of a chief, a j^cat chief, strong, cunning, and
wise, a chief of many bold deeds, his name was Mosh Kohtn.

“ It is a long while! No Pale-faces dwelt in the land of plenty
(the translation of the Indian word Texas); our grandfathers had
just received it from the Great Spirit, and they had come from the
sotting of the sun across the big mountains to take possession. We
were a great nation—^we are so now, we liave always been so, and
we will ever be. At t^at time, also, our tribe s]pread all along the
western shores of the'*' great stream Mississippi, for no Pale-faco
had yet settled upon it. We were a great people, ruled by a mighty
chief; the earth, the trees, the rivers, and the air know his name.
Is there a place in the mountains or the prairies where the name of
Mosh Kohta has not been pronounced and praised?

“ At that time a strange warlike people of the Pale-faces broke
their big canoes along our coasts of the south, and they all landed
on the snore, well armed with big guns and long rities, but they had
nothing to eat. These were the Mahainate-kosh-ehoj (the FrenclO!
their chief was a good man, a warrior, and a great traveller; he
had started from the northern territories of the Algonquins, to go
across the salt water in far distant lands, and bring back with hfin
many good things which the Red-skins wanted;—.warm blatikets to

15$ THWELS AND ADVENTUBflS OF

sleep upon, flints to strike a fire, axes to <‘Ut the trees, and knives
to skin the bear anil the buffalo. Ho was a good man and loved
the Indians, for they also were good, and good people w ill always
love ^eb other.

”He met with Mosh Kohta; our warriors would not fight th<'
5ffrangers, for they hungry and their voires were solt; they
were also too few to be fbared, though tlieir eoiiragi' seemed great
under misfortune, and they would sini? and laugh whih* they
suffered. We gave them food, we helped them to take from the
waters the planks of their big oanoe and to build the fli'st A\igivam
in which the Pale-faces ever dwelt in ToxaM. Tvyo moons they
remained hunting the buffalo with our young men, till at last their
chief and his bravest warriors startl'd in small ^•iLno(‘S of ours, to
see if they could not enti'r th<' great stream, by following the coast
towards the sunrise. He was gone four moone, and when ho
returned, ho had lost half of his men hy .sickn''.s.s, hunger, and
♦.fatigue; yt't Mosh Kohta bade him not despair; the great chief
promised the Pair-faces to comhict them in the spring to the great
stream, and fur several more moons we livtsl all togetlior, as bravos
and brothers should. Then for the first time also, the (.'oinanche.s
got some of tlu'ir rifles, and others knives. Was it good—was it
bad? Who knows? Yet the lanco and arrow's killed as many
buffaloes as load and black dust (powder), and the squaws eould
take off the skin of a doer or a beavi'r without knivo.s. How they
did it, no one knows now', but they did it, though they had not yet
seen thi' keen and sharp knives ol'the Pale-fares.

“However, it was not long tinus before many of tbo strangers
tired of remaining so far from their wigwams: their chief every
morning would look for hours tow ards the rising of the sun, a.s »f
the eyes of his soul could see through t he imincusUy of the prairies;
ho becjime gloomy as a man of dark deeds ^ Medocin), and oik'
day, with Italf of his m<;n, ho begu)' a long inland trail across
prairies, sw'araps, and rivers, so nuicli did he dread to die far from
his lodge. Yet lie did die: not of sickness, not of hung<*r, but
under the, knife of another Palo-face; and lie was the first one from
strange countries wlio.se boms blanehed witliout burial in the
waste. Often tlie ev'cning breeze vvhispt'rs his name along the
sw'ells of the sontlicrn plains, tor he was a brave man, and no
doubt he is now rooking with bis great Manitou.

“Well, he started. At that time the buffalo and the deer were
plentiful, and the m<'U went on their trail gaily till they reached
the river of many forks (Trinity Kiver), for thc-y knew that every
day brought them nearer ami nearer to tlio forts of their people,
though it was yet a long way—vorv long. The Pale-face chief hail
a son with him; a noble youth, fair to look upon, active, and
strong—^the Comanohes loved him. Mosh Kohta had advised him
to di.sti*ttst two of his own warriors; hut he w'as young and gene¬
rous, inoapable of wrong or cowardice; ho W'ould not suspect it in
others, especially among men of his ow'ii colour anti nation, who
haif^ sharwi liis toils, his dangers, his sorrow',s, and his .joys.

“Kow those two warriors our great chief had spoken of were
bad men and very greedy; they were ambitious too, and believed
that, by killing their chief and his son, they W'ould themselves com-
nund the band. One evening, while they were all eating the meal
of friondship, groans were heard—a murder had been committoil.

MONSUiffit VIOtiUT. 159

The other warrior.s sprang up; they gaw their chief dead, and the

two warriors coming towards them; their revenge was quick_

quicU as tliat of tlie panther; the two base warriors were killed.

“ Then there was a groat fight among the Pale-fane band, in which
snany were slain; but the young man and some other braves
escaped from thc’ir cm'niies, and, after two moons, reached the
Arkansas, where they I'omid their friends and some Makota Conor
yas (priests—black-gowns). The remainder of the hand who left
us, and who murdered their chief, our ancestors destroyed like
reptiles, for they were venomous and bad. The other half of the
Pale-faces, who liud remained behind in tlie wood wigwams, fol¬
lowed our tribe to our great villages, IxMsame Comanche.s, and took
squaws. Their children and ^arulchildren liave formed a good
and bw-vc nation; they are paler tlian the Clomanches, but their
heart is all the same; and often in the hunting-grounds they join
our hunters, partake f»l' the same meals, and agree like brothers.
The.se an* the nation of the Wakoe.s, not far in the .south, upon the „
toiil of the Cros.s TimbiTs. But who knows not the Wakoes?
^fien children can go to their hospitable lodges.”

This episode is historical. In the early months of 1684, four
vessels left [ia Rochelle, in France, for the colonization of the
Mississippi, bearing two hundred and eighty persons. The expe¬
dition wa.s commanded by lia Salic, who brought with him his
nephew', Moranget. After a delay at Santo Domingo, which lasted
two years, the cvpedition, missing the mouth of the Mississippi,
entered the Bay of Matagorda, where they wei'c shipwrecked.
“There,” says Bancroft, in his History of America, “under the
suns of June, wdt.h timber felled in an inland grove, and dragged
for a league ou'r the prairie gra.ss, the colonists prepared to build
a slmlter, L.a Salle being the arcliitoct, and himself making the
beams, and tenon.s, and mortises.”

This is the settlement which ma<le Texas a part of Louisiana.
La Salle proposed to sock the IMissi.ssippi in the canoes of the
Indians, who had shown thcm.sclves friendly, and, after an absence
of about four months, and the loss of thirty men, he returned in
rags, having failed to find “the fatal rher.” The eloquent Ameri¬
can historian gives him a noble charac ter.

“ On the return of La Salle," says he, “ho learned that a mutiny
had broken out among hi.s incTj, and they had destroyed a part of
the colony's provisions. Heaven, and man seemed his enemies,
and, with the giant eiu'rgy of an indomitable will, having lost his
hopes of fortune, his hopes of fame, with his colony diminished to
about on© hundred, among whom discovitent had given birth to
plans of crime—with no Europc'an nearer than the river Parauco,
and no French nearer than the northern sliores of the MLssi.ssippi,
he resolved to travel on foot to his countrymen in tlie north, and
renew his attempts at coloniisatiou.**

It appears that La Salle left sixty men behind him, and on the
20th of March, 1686, after a buftaio hunt, he was murdered by
Duhaut and L'Archevcque, two adventurers, who had embarkwi

i(K) TRAVELS ANB ABVEjrTRRES OF

their oaptiiAl in the interprise. They had long shown a spirit
of mutiny^ and the malignity of disappointed avarice so maddened
they mnrdwed their tinfortunate commander.

I will borrow a page of Bancroft, who is more explicit than the-
Oomanohe chroniclers.

‘♦Leaving sixty men at Fort St, Louis, in January, 1687, La
Salle, with the other portion of his m<'n, departed lor Canada.
Lading their baggage on the wild horses from the Cenis, w'hioh
found their pasture everywhere in the prairies, in shoes made of
green buffalo hides; for w'ant of other paths, following the track of
the buffalo, and using skins as the only shelter Jigainst rain, winning
fhvour with the savages by the confiding (‘ourago of their leader—
they ascended the streams towards the first riilgos of liigfllands,
walking through beautiful plains and groves, among doer and
buffaloes—^iiow' fording tlie <iear rivulel.s,iiow building a bridge by
» felling a giant tree across a stream, till they had passed the basin
of the Colorado, and in the uplatid ecuntry had reached a briinc^
of the Trinity Kiver.

“ In the little company of wanderers tliere were two men, Duhaut
and L’Archeveque, who had embarked their capital in the enter¬
prise. Of those, Duhaut had long shown a spirit of mutiny; the
base malignity of disappointed avarice, maddened by sufferings and
impatient of control, awakened the fiercest passions of ungovern¬
able hatred. Inviting Moranget to take charge of the fruits of a
bufifalo-hunh they quarrelled with him and murdered him.

“ Wondering at the delay of his nephew’s return. La Salle, on the
20th of March, w^ent to seek him. At the brink of t!ie river lie
observed eagles hovering, as if over carrion, and he fired an alarni-
gOn. Warned by the sound, Duhaut and L’Archevcqiu' crosstnl
the river; the former skulked in the prairie grass; of the latter,
La Salle asked, ‘Whore is i.iy nephe.*^?’’ At the moment of the
luiswer, Duhaut fired; and without uttering a word, La Salic fell
dead. ‘You arc down now, grand Bashaw! you are down uowd’
shouted one of the conspirators, as they despoiled his remains,
which were left on the prairie, naked and without ,hurial, to bo
devoured by wild beasts.

, “ Such was the end of this daring adventurer. For force of will
and vast coneeptioits; for v arious knovvledge, and quick adapta¬
tion of his genius to untried circumstances; for a sublime magna¬
nimity, that resigned itself to the wdll of Heaven, and yet triumphed
over affliction by energy of purpose and unfaltering hope—^lio had
no superior among his countrymen. He had won the affection of
the Governor of Cansuhi, tin* esteem of Colbert, tlie confidence of
Scignelay, the favour of Louis XIV. After beginning the coloni¬
sation of Upper Canada, lie perfected the discovery of the Missis¬
sippi from the Falls of St. Anthony to its mouth; and he will be
i^embered through all times as the father of colonization in the
great central valley of the West."

' Jontel, with the brother and son, La Salle, and others, but seven
in'111, obtained a guide from the Indians for the Arkansas, and,
fording torrents, crossing ravines, making a ferry over rivers witli
. rafts or boats of buffalo hides, without meeting the cheering cus¬
tom of the calumet, till they reached the country above the Bed

9fONSt£tTll VMtJKr.

161

River, and leaving an est<iemed companion in a wildcmesa grave,
on the 24th of July, came upon a branch of the Mississippi. There
they beheld on an island a largo cross; never did Christians gaze on
that emblem with more deep-felt emotion. Near it stood a log hut,
tenanted by two Frenchman. A missionary, of the name of Tonti,
had descended that river, and, full of grief at not finding La Salle
had established a post near the Arkansas.

As the reader may perceive, there is not much difference between
our printed records and the traditions of the Comanches,

• CHAPTER XXV.

It was during my convalescence that the fate of the Texian expc- ,
dition to Santa Fo was decided; and as the real facts have been
«#udiously concealed, and my intelligence, gained from the Indians,
who were disinterested parties, was afterwards fully corroborated
by an Irish gentleman who had been persuaded to join it, I may as
well relate them here. Assiuning the character of friendly traders,
with some hundred dollars' worth of goods, as a blind to their real
intention, which W'as to surprise the Mexicans during the neutra¬
lity which liad been agreed upon, about five hundred men were
collected at Austin, for the expedition.

Although the report was everywhere circulated that this was to
be a trading experiment, the expedition, when it quitted Austin,
c’ortainly wore a very different appearance. The men had been
supplied with uniforms; generals, and colonels, and majors were
dashing about in every direction, and they quitted the capital of
Texas with drums beating and coloims Hying. Deceived by the
Toxians, a few respectable Europeans were induced to join this ex¬
pedition, cither for scientific rese.arch or the desire to visit a new
and unexplored country under such protection, little imagining tliat
they had associated themselves with a large bond of robbers, for no
other name can be given to these lawless plunderers. But if the
force made a tolerable appearance on its quitting the capital, a few
hours’ march put an end to all discipline and restraint.

Although the country abounded with game, and it was killed firom
mere wantonness, such was their improvidence that they were
obliged to resort to their salt pork and other provisions; and as, in
thirty days, forty largo casks of whisky were consumed, it is easy
to suppose, which was, indeed, the fact, that every night that they
halted, the camp was a scene of drunkenness and riot.

During the last few days of the march through the game country,
they killed more than a hundred buffaloes, yet tlmee days after they
had quitted the prairies, and had (mtered the dreary northern de¬
serts, they had no provisions left, and were compelled to eat their
*)?orn-out fuid miserable horses.

162 TRAVELS AND ADVBNTL Utfi OT

A true account of their horrible suflForinjrs would bojr^ar all di-
seription; they became so weak and so utterly helpless, that half-
ardozen Mexicans, well mounted, could lia\e destroyed them all-
Yet miserable as they were, and under the neoessity of conciliating
the Indians, they could not forego their piratical and thieving pro¬
pensities. They fell upon a small village of the tVakot's, whose
warriors and hunters were absent, and, not sati-sfii'd with taking
away all the eatables they could carry, they amused tlunnsclv ('.s
with firing the Indian stores and shooting the chiUlnm, and did not-
leave until the village was redueod to a heap of burning ashes-
This act of cowardice scaled the fate of llie expedition, which was
so constantly harassed by the AYakoe warriors, and had lost alrc-ady
so many scalps, that afterwards, meeting with a Kiiiall party of
* Mexicans, they surrendered to them, that they might eseaijo the
well-deserved and unrelenting v'engeance of the warlike Wakoes,

8uch was the fate of the Texiau exj>edition; hut tluTc is anothlj
portion of the history which has been much talked of in the United
States—mean the history of their eaptivit)- and sufferings, whilo
on their road from Santa Fc to Mexico. Air. Daniel AYebster has
made it a government question, and Mr. Pakenham, the Britisli
ambassador in Mexico, has employe<i all the intluenec of his own
position to restore to freedom the half-dozf’ii of Knglishmen wlio had
joined the expedition. Of course, they knew nothing of the circum¬
stances, except from the report of the Texians them‘!elv<‘s. Now if
is but just that the Mexicans' version should be heard also. The
latter is the true one, at least so i'ar as I can judge by what I ^aw,
what I heard upon the spot, ami I'rom some Mexican documents yet
in my possession.

The day before their capture, the Toxian.s, who for the last thir-
temi days had suffered all the pangs of iiuiiger, came suddenly upon
a dock of several thousand sheep, belonging to the Alexican govern¬
ment. As usual, the Hock was under the charge of a Mexican
family, living in a small covered w*aggon, in which they could
remove from spot to spot, shifting th(' ]»as(urc-gronnd a,s required-
In thatcmmtry but very few individuals are employed to keej) the
largest herds of animals; but they are always accompanied by a
number of noble dogs, which appear to be particularly adapted to
protect and guide, the animals. These dog.s do not run about; they
never bark nor bite, but, on the contrary, they will walk gcmtly up
to any one of the fiock that happens to stray, take it carefully by
the ear, and lead it back to its companions. The sheep do not
show the least fear of these dogs, nor is there any occasion for it.
These useful guardians are a cross of the Newfoundland and St,
®*mard breed, of a very large size, and very sagacious.

J^^ow, if the Texims had asked for a hundred sheep, either for
money or in barter (a sheep is worth about sixpence), they would
have been ^supplied directly; but as soon as the flock were per-

MONSIEUR VIOUET.

163

reivod, one of the Texian leaders exclaimed with an oath, “ Mexi*
cans’ property, and a welcome booty; upon it, my boys—upon it,
anil no iniTcy." One of tlio poor .’Mexicans wlio had charge was
shot through the head, the otljcrs succeeded in escaping by throwing
themselves down among the thick ranks of the frightened animals,
till ont of distance; then bi gan a carriage without discrimina<‘
tion, and the T<*xi'ms never ceased tiring, until the prairie was for
miles covered ivith the bodies of their victims. Yet this grand
victory w.as not purchased without a severe loss, for the dogs de¬
fended the property intrusted to their care; they scorned to run
aivay, and hclbre tiiev could all be killed, they had tom to pieces
half-a-dozen of the Texians, and dreadfully lacerated as many more.
The eiomng was, of course, spr*nt in revelry: the dangers and
fatigues, the di>la 3 ’^s and ^'exatious of the march were now considered
oi^er, and high werf* their anticipations of the rich plunder in per¬
spective*, Ihit this was the only foal accomplished by this Texian
expedition: the JMexicans had not been deceived; they had had
inteiligenee of the real nature of the expedition, and advanced
jiartics had lu*cn s 'lit out to annomu'c its approach. Twenty-four
hours after they had regaled themselves witli mutton, one of these
parties, amoimtir^ to about on(' hundrei^ien.inade its appearance.
All the OM'iti'mcnt of the previous cviaiing hail evaporated, the
Texians sent out a ting of truce, ami three hundred of them sur-
rcnd(‘ri‘d unconditiuiial!^* to this small JMexican force.

On one point the European intions have been much deceived,
which is as to the character of the 31exican soldier, who appeai*.5 to
be looked ii]>on with a degree of contempt. This is a great mistake,
but it has arisim froni the false rcjiorts and unfounded aspersions
of the Texians, as to the result of many of their engagements. I
can boldlj' assert (although opposed to them) that there is not a
braver indii idual in the world than the IMexican; in my opinion,
I’ar .sup<*rior to the Texian, although probably not equal to him in
the knowledge and us!.* of fire-arms.

One grt'at cause of the IMcxican army liaving occasionally met
with d('feat, is that the Mexicans, who are of the oldest and best
(kistih* blood, retain the pride of the Spanish race to an absurd de¬
gree. The Sons of the old nobility arc appointed as officers; they
learn nothing, know nothing of militaiy tactics—they know how to
die bravely, and that is all.

The battle of St. Jauinta, which dccidi^ the separation of Texas,
has been greatl}' t*ricd up by the Texians; the fact is, it was no
battlo at all. The IMexicam were commanded by Santa Anna,
who has great military talent, and the Mexicans reposed full^confl-
dence in liim. Santa Anna, feeling very unwell, went to a farm¬
house, at a small distance, to recover himself, and was captured
l)y half-a-dozen Texian robbers, who took him on to the Texian
army.

164 TnAVELS A>P ABVKNTURES OF

The loss of the general, with the knowledge that there was no
one fit to supply his place, dispirited the Mexicans, and they
retreated; but since that time they have proved to the Texiaus
how insecure they are, even at this moment. Tlngland and other
European governments ha^ e thought proper, very hastily, to recog¬
nize Texas, but Mexico has not, and vsdll not.

The expedition to Santa Fe, by which the Texians broke tJie
peace, occurred in the autimm of 1841; the Mexican army entered
Texas in the spring of 1H42, swec'iiing everything before them,
from St Antonia di Bejar to the Colorado; but the Texiaus had
sent emissaries to Yucatan, to induce that province to declare its
independence. The war in Yucatan obliged the Mexican army to
march hack in that direction to quell theinsurr(!ction, which it did,
I and then returned to Texas, and again took possession of St, An¬
tonio di Bejar in September of the sjuno year, taking many pri¬
soners of eonsequencse away wdth them.

It was the intention of the Ylexieaus to have returned to Texas
in the spring of the year, but fresh disturbances in YYicatan pre¬
vented Santa Anna from executing bis projects. Texsus, is there¬
fore, no means secure, its population is decre^vsing, aiul those
who had respectability al^jjached to their character have left it. 1
hardly need observe that the Texiau national debt, now amounting
to tliirteen millions of dollars, may, for many reasons, turn out to
be not a very profitable investment.* ,

But to return to the Santa Fe expedition. The T<'xians
were deprived of their arms and conductc^d to a small village,
called Anton Chico, till orders should have been rwoivod, as to

* Perhaps the English reader will find h e.\-traardinary that Santa Anna,
once freed from his captivity, should not have n -cntcred Texas witli an over¬
whelming force! The reason is very simple. Ilustamcntu was a rival of
Santa Anna for the presidency j the general's absence allowed him to Intrigue,
and when the news reached the capital that Santa Anna had fallen a prisoner,
it became necessary to elect a new president. Bustainento had never i)ecn very
popular, but having promised to the American population of the sca-ports, that
nothing should be attempted agsdnst Texas if he were elected, these, through
mercantile interest, supported him, not only with their influence, but also with
thdr money.

When, at last, Santa Anna returned to Mexico, his power was lost, and his
designs upon Texas was discarded by his successor. Hustamentc was a man
entirely devoid of energy, and he looked with apathy upon the numerous aggres¬
sions made by the Texians upon the borders of Mexico. As soon, however, as
the Mexicans heard that the Texians, in spite of the laws of nations, had sent
an expedition to Santa Pe, at the very time that they were making overtures for
peaM and recognition of their independence, they called upon Jlustaniente to
account for bis culpable want of energy. Helicving himself secure against any
revolution, the prohideut answered with Iiarsh measures, and the soldiery, now
exasperated, put Santa Anna at their head, forcing him to re-assume the pr(!si-
dency. Jlustnmente ran away to Paris, the Santa Fe expedition was soon
(iefcatel, and, as wo have secu, the pixjsident, Santa Anna, began hla dictator-
ship with the invasion of Texas (March, 18421.

MOMSIEUU VIOLET. 165

their ilituro Uisposition, from General Armigo, governor of the
proTUice.

It is not to be supposed that, in a small village of about one bun-
• <lred go^'omnlent shepherds, sc'veral Imudred famished men could
be supplied with all the necessaries and superfluities of life. The
Texians accuse the Mexicans of having starved them in Anton
(jhioo, forgetting that every Texian hiid the same ration of provi¬
sions as the Mexican soldier.

Of course the Texians now attemptwl to fall back upon the
original falsehood, that they were a trading expedition, and had
been destroyed and plundered by the Indians; but, unfortunately,
the as.sault upon the sheep and the cowardly mjissacro of the
shepherds u ore not to be got over. As Governor Armigo very
justly observt‘d to them, if they were traders, they had committed •
n^irder; if they were not traders, they were prisoners of war.

After a painful journey of four mouths, the prisoners arrived in
the old capital of IMexieo, where the few strangers who had been
induced to join tlie expedition, in ignorance of its destination, were
immediately restored to liberty; tin* rest were sent, some to the
mint's, to dig for the metal tlnw were so anxious to obtain, and
some were passed over to the police of the city, to bo employed
in the cleaning of the streohs.

Many ^\jnerican newsjtapers have fillo<l their columns with all
manner of histories relative to this expedition; catalogues of the
cruelties practised by tin* Mexicans have been given, and the sym¬
pathizing Ann'rican public have beim ealled upon to relieve unfor¬
tunate men who ha<l escaped, f will only give one instance of
misrepresentation in the “New Orleans Picayune,” and put in
juxta-positioii th(? real truth. It will be quite sufficient. Mr. Ken¬
dal says:—

“ As the sun was about sotting^, those of us who were in front were startled
by the report of two guns, following each other in quick succession. We
turned to ascertain the cause, and soon found that a poor, unfortunate man,
named Golpin, a merchant, and who had Htarte<l upon the expedition with a
small nniomit of goods, had bet'n shot by tlio rcar-giuuxl, for no other reason
tlian he wua toi) sick and weak to keep up. He had made a bargain with one
of the guard to ride his nwde a short distance, for which he was to pay him his
only shirt! 'W hile in the act of takhig it off, Salazar, the commanding officer,
ordered a soldier to shoot him. The first ball only wounded the wretched man,
but the second hilled him instantly, and he fell with his shirt still about his
face. Golpln was a citizen of the United States, and reached Texas a short
time licfoi'e the expedition. He tvos a harmless, inoffensive man, of most dell-
cato constitution, and, during a greater part of the time we were upon the
road, was obliged to ride in one of the waggons."

This story is, of eoiu’se, very pathetic; but here we have a few
lines taken from the “Bee,” a New Orlean-s newspaper:—

" JANtiAnv, 1840.— Hobbiblb Mohder !—Yesterday, at the plautatiOD of
William Reynolds, was committed one of those acts which revolt human na-

THAVEliS AKD ABVENTUItES OF

166

tuffi. Henry Golpin, tho ox'erseor, a Creole, and strongly suspected of bolrig a
quadroone, had for some time acted iuiproperly towards Airs. RcyuoLls and
daughters. A days ago. a letter from AV. K. was received from St l.ouis,
stating that he would rt turn home at the latter end of the w'w U , and (lolpin, ^
f<eaiing that the ladles would couiplain of hi.s conduct and have Itiin ttirncfi otit,
poisoned them with tho juice of M)ine berries iiourod into their eoffet!. Ikath
was almo'.t instnnlancoiis. A pretty mulatto girl of sixtw'ii, an attendant and
protrg'C of the young ln<13es, entered the room when) the corpses were already
stiff, found the miscreant busy in tahing off tlwir jewels and hrcuKiitg up some
recesses, where ho knew that there were a few thou-and dollars, in specie and
paper, the jiroduce of a recent sale of negroes. At fir.st, ho tried to coax tho
girl, offering to run away anel marry licr, Imt she repulsed him with indignation,
and, forcing lierself off hw hold, she ran away to call for help Snatching
suddenly a rifle, he opened a w indow, and as the honest girl ran across the
square towards the negroes' huts, she loll quite dead, witli a liall pas.-ing aeross
her temples. 1'Iie governor and police of tiie llrst and socorul nniuicipalitles
* offer one thousand dollars reward for the apprehension of the iniseraMc assassin
who, of course, has ab.seonded.'’

»

Thw is the ‘•harmlos.s ainl iiioiicnsivi* man of (Iclifatc constitu¬
tion, a citizen of the TTniteil Stales,” which ^Ir. Kciulal would give
us as a martyr of ISIexicaii liarhari.sni. During the trip across the
P'^airic, everx- man, except two or tlireo, had .slmnncd him, so well
did everyone know his character; and now I will describe the
events which (!aused him to be shot in tlie way ahove related.

Two journeys alter they had left Sfinta Fe, tliey pa.ssed the night
in a small village, four men being billeted in everv liouse under
the charge ol one sohlier. Golpm and anothi r of his staniji
were, however, left without any guard, in the hou>-e of a small
retailer of aguavdieiite, who, heing new absent, had lett liis old
wife alone in the liousc. She was a gotKl hospitable soul, and
thought it a Christian duty to administer to the [loor prLsoner.s all
the relief slie could afford. She gave them .some of her hu.sband's
linen, batijcd their feet with warm water mixed with whisky, and
served up to them a plentiful supper.

Before they retired to re.st, she mad*' thorn punch, and'gave
them a small bottle of liquor, whiv'h they could conceal about them
and use on the road. Thi' next morning the sounds of the drums
called the prisoner.^ in the square to got ready f**r their <l<‘parturc.
Golpin went to the old woman’s room, insisting that she should
give them more of the liquor. Now the poor thing had already-
done much. Liquor in these far inland countries, wliero tlicre are
no distilleries, rea<'hcs tho enormous price of from sixteen to
twenty dollars a gallon. So .she mildly but fii'inly refused, upon
which Golpin seizoil from tho nail, whore it was hung, a very
heavy ke 3 % which he knew to ho that of Hie little cellar underground,
where the woman kept the liquor. Sho trievl to regain possession
ol' il. but dui*ing tho .struggle Golpin beat her brains out wdLli a bar
of iron that was in tlie room. This deed perpetrated, lie opened
the trap-door to the cellar, and among the folds of his blanket and

UOSrslSVB VIOI^ET.

16?

tliat of liis companion concealed as many flasks as they could
carry. They then shut the street door and joined their com-
panimis.

. Two hours afterwards, the husband returned, and knocked in
vain; at last, ho broke open the door, and beheld his helpmate
barbarously mangled. A neighbour soon told him about the two
Texian guests, and the wretched man having made his depositions
to an alcalde, or (!on.stahle, they both started upon fresh horses,
and at noon overtook the prisoners. The commanding officers
.soon a.sccrtained who Avere the two men that had been billeted at
the old wonian’.s, and found them surrounded by a group of Texians,
making themselves merry with the stolen liquor. Seeing that they
wero discovered, to save his life, Golpiu’s companion immediately
peached, and related the whole of the transaction. Of course the ^
assassin was executed.

• ^

CHAPTER XXVr.

At that time, the Pawnee Piets, themselves an offset of the Sho¬
shones and Comanchos, and speaking the same language—a tribe
residing upon, the northern .shores of the Red River, and who had
always been at peace with their ancestor.^, hadbe^ommitted some
depredations upon the northern territory of the Comanehes.

The chiefs, as usual, waited several moons for reparation to be
offered by the offenders, hvit a.s none came, it Avas feared that the
Picl.s h:ul been influenced by tho American agents to forget their
long friend.'^hip, and commence hostilities with them. It was,
therefore, resolved that wc alioulff enter the war path, and ol>«
fain that justice by force Avhicli friendship could no longer
command.

The road which we had to travel, to arrive at tho town of the
Paw'nee Piets, was rough and uneven, running over hills and inter¬
sected by deep gullies. Bad as it was, and faint and tired as were
our horses, in ten day.s wo reached a small prairie, within six miles
of tho river, on the other sido of which lay the principal villas of
tho Pawnee Piets.

The heavens now became suddenly overcast, and a thunder
storm soon rendered it impossible for even our befit warriors to
see tUeir way. A halt was consequently ordered, and, notwith¬
standing a tremendous rain, we slept soundly till mom, when a
drove of horses, niunbering some hundreds, was discovered some
distance to our left. In all appearance they were tame animals,
and many thought they could see the Pawnee warriors riding
them. Four of us immediately started to reconnoitre, and we made
our preparations for attack; as we gradually approached, there
appeared to bo no little commotion among the herd, which We now
plainly perceived to be horses Avithout any riders.

168 TBAVELS AND ADVENTUHES OP

When we first noticed them, we discerned two or three white
spots, which Gabriel and I mistook for flags; a nearer view con¬
vinced us that they were young colts.

We continued oiu’ route. The sun had scarcely risen when we
arrived on the shore of the river, whicii was lined with hundreds of
canoes, each carrjung green branches at their bows and white flags
at their sterns. Shortly afterw'ards, several chiefs passed over to
our side, and invited all our principal chiefs to come over to the
Tillage and talk to the Pawnee Piets, who wislied to remain
brothers with their friends—the (^.omariches. This w'as consented
to, and Gabriel, Roche, and I accompanied thorn. This village
was admirably protected from attack on every side; and in front
the Red River, there clear and transparent, rolls its deep w’aters.
^At the bac;k of the vilh'ige, stony and perpendicular mountains rise
to the heiglit of two thousand feet, and their ascent is impossible,
except by ladders and ropes, or wlierc steps ha^x* been cut into*
tire rock.

The wigwams, one thousand in number, oxttuid, for ihn space of
four miles, upon a beautiful piece of ricli allu\ ial soil, in a very
high state of cultivation; the fields were well fencod and luxuriant
with maize, pumpkins, melons, beans, and squashes. The space
between the mouiijains and the riv(‘r, on each side of the village,
was thickly planted with close ranks of prickly pear, impassable
to man or beast, so that the only way in which the Pawnee.s could
be attacked was in front, by forcing a passage across the river,
which could not be effected without a great loss of life, as the
Pawnees are a brave people and well supplied with rifles, although
in their prairie hunts they prelei to use their lances and their
arrows.

When we entered the gi’cat council lodge, the great chief, Wetara
Sharoj, received us with great urbanity, assigned to us places next
to him, and gave the signal for the Pawnee elders to enter the
lodge. I was very much astonished to .sec among them some white
men dressed in splendid military uniforms; but the ceremonies
havLog begun, and it being tbe Indian custom to assume indifference,
whatever your feelings may be, I remained where 1 was. Just at
the moment that the pipe-bearer was lighting th(‘ calumet of peace,
the venerable Pawnee chief advanced to the middle of the lodge,
and addressed the Comanches :—

*tMy sight is old, for I have seen a hundred winters, and yet I
can recognise those who once were friends, I see among you
Opishka Koaki (the White Raven), and the leader of a great people;
Pemeb-Katey (the Long Carbine), and the wise Hali-nee (the Old
Beavw). You are friends, and we should offer you at once the
calumet of peace, but you have come as foes. As long as you
think you have cause to remain so, it would be mean and unw'orthy
of the Pawnees to .sue and beg for what perchance they may ob-

iioNsneus vioi^et. 169

fain by their courage. Yet the Comanches and the Pawnees have
been friends too long a time to fall upon each other as a starved
wolf does upon a wounded buffalo. A strong cause must excite
* thorn to fight against each other, and then, when it comes, it must
be a w'ar of extermination, for when a man breaks with an old
friend, he becomes more bitter in his vengeance than against an
utter stranger. Lot me hear what the brave Comanches have to
complain of, and any reparation, con.sistent with the dignity of a
Pawnee chief, shall be made, sooner than risk a war between bro¬
thers w ho have so long hunted together and fought together against
a common enemy. T have said.”

■ Opishka Koaki ordered me to light the Comanche calumet of
peace, and advancing to the place left, vacant by the ancient chief,
he answered:— •

^ ^“J have heard w’ords of great wisdom; a (''omanche always
loves and respects wisdom; I love and respect my father, Wetera
Sharoj; 1 will tell him what are the complaints of our warriors;
but before, as we ha\"e come as foes, it is but just that we should
be the first to offer the pipe of peace; take it, chief, for w'e must
be friends. I will tell our wTongs, and leave it to the justice of
tlie great Pawnee to efface them, and repair the loss his young men
have caused to a nation of friends."

The pipe was accepted, and the “talk” went on. It appeared
that a party of one hundred Pawnee hunters had had their horses
estampeded one night, by some hostile Indians. Por five days they
forced their w'ay on foot, till entering the northern territory of the
Comanches, they met with a drove of horses and cattle. They
would never have touched them, had it not been that, a short time
afterwards, ih(‘y met with another very numerous party of their
inveterate eneraies—^the Kiowas—^by whom they were pressed so
very hard, that they were obliged to return to the place where the
Oimanche herds of horse were grazing, and to take them, to escape
their foes. So far, all was right; it was nothing more than what
the Comanches would have done themselves in the land of the
Pawnees; but what had angered the Comanche warriors was, that
the hundred horses thus borrowed in necessity, had never been
returned, although the party had arrived at the village two moons
ago.

When the Pawnees heard that we had no other causes for com¬
plaint, they showed, by their expressions of friendship, that the
ties of long brotherhood were not to be so easily broken; and in¬
deed the Pawnees had, some time before, sent ten of their men with
one hundred of their finest horses, to compensate for those which
they had taken and rather ill-treated, in their hurried escape from
the Kiowas. But they had taken a different road from that by
which we had come, and consequently we had missed them. Of
course, the council broke up, and the Indians, who had remained

170 TBAVELS AND ADTENTUHES OP

on the other side of the river, were invited in the village to par¬
take of the Pawnee hospitality.

Gabriel and I soon accost(*d the strangely-dressed foreigners.
In fact, w'e were seeking each other, and I learned that they bad
been along time among the Pawnees, and would have passeil t)M'r
to the Comanches, in order to confer with me on certain political
matters, had it not be<'n that they were aware of tlv? great anti¬
pathy the chiefs of that tribe entertained against the inhabitants
of the TJnitod States.

The facts were as follow'S:—Those people were emissaries of the
Mormons, a new se<‘t which had sprung up in the States, and
which was rapidly' increasing in numbers. This sect had been
create*! by a certain Josej)!! Smith. Round the standard of this
iiold and ambitious leader, .swarm.s of peophi trowded from every
part, and bad settled upon a va.st e.xtent of ground on the eastern
shores of the Mississ'ppi, and there established a civil, religious,'
and military power, as anomalous as it was dangerous to the
United States, In order to accomplish his ulterior views, this
modern apostle washed to establish relations of peace and friend¬
ship with all the Indians in the great western territories, and bail
for that purpose sent messengers among the various tribes ea.st of
the Rocky Mountains. Having also learned, by the St. Louis
trappers, that strangers, long e.stablished among the Shoshone.s of
the Pacific Ocean, were now residing among the Gomanches, Smith
had ordered his emissaries among the Pawnees to endeavour to
meet us, and concert together as to wliat measures could bo taken
so as to secure a genei'al league, defensive and offensive, against
the Americans anil the Texians, and which was to extend from the
Mississippi to the western seas.

Such a proposition of i*ourse could not bo immediately answered.

I therefore obtained leave from the Comanches to take the two
strangers with us, and we all returned together. It would be
useless to relate to the reader that which passed between me and
the emissaries of the Mormons; let it suffice to say, that after a
residence of three weeks in the village, they were conducted back
to the Pawnees. With the advice of Gabriel, 1 determined to go
myself, and confer with the principal Mormon leaders; resolving
in my own mind that, if our interview was not satisfactory, I would
continue on to Europe, and endeavour either to engage a company
of merchants to enter into direct communication with the Shoshones,
or to obtain :|IW'iupport of the English government, in furtherance
of the otnjaets 1 hatl in view for the advantage of the tribe.

As niarge portion of the Comanqhes were making preparations
for their annual migration to the east of Texas, Roche, Qabriel,
and I joined this party; and having exchanged asi affecUonato
fiirewell with the remainder of the tribe, and received many valuable
presents, we started, taking the direction of the Saline Lake, which

UOINrSlBUK VIOLET.

171

forms the head-waters of tlie southern branch or fork of the river
Brazos. Then* we mot again with our old friends, the Wakoes,
and luariit'd that there was u party 4)r sixty or seventy Yankees or
, Texians roaming about the upper forks of the Trinity, committing
all sorts of depredations, and painting their bodies like the Indians,
tliat tiu'ir enormities might be laid to the account of the savages.
Tins may appear strange to the reader, but it has been a common
practice for some tunc. There have always been in the United
Stales a numerous body of individuals, who, having by their
crimes been eompelh'd to quit the settlements of the east, have
sought shelter out of the reach of civilization. These individuals
are all desperate characters, and, uniting themselves in small
liands, come fearlessly among the savages, taking squaws, and
living among them till a sufficient period has elapsed to enablt^
them to venture, under an assumed name .and in a distant state, to
•n-turii with iiupuuitj", and enjoy the wealth acquired by plunder
and assassination.

This is the history ol the major portion of tlie western pioneers,
wlioso courage ami virtues Ivave been so much celebrated by
American writers. As they increased in numbers, these pioneers
conceived a plan by which they acquired great wealth. They
united together, forming a society of land privateers or buccaneers,
and made incursions into the very heart of the French and Spanish
settlements of the we.st, where, not being expected, they surpi^sM
the ])(;oplc and carried off great booty. When, how^ever, these
S[jaui.sh and French poss(*ssions were incorporated intotlie United
States, they altered their system of plunder; and, under the name
of Border'.s Buggies, they infested tlie states of the Mississippi and
Tenessce, wh(*re they obtained such a dreaded reputation that the
government sent out many expeditions against them, which, how-
t'ver, wore useless, as all the principal magistrates of these states
had contrived oven themselves to be elected members of tbe fra¬
ternity. The increase of population broke up this system, and the
“ Buggies” were compelled to retort to other measures. Well ac-
qaintod with Indian manuors, they w'ould dress and paint them-
selv(*s as savages, and attack the caravans to Mexico. The
traders, in their reports, would attribute the deed to some tribe of
Indians, probably, at the moment of the attack, some five or six
hundred miU‘s distant from the .spot.

This land pirating is now carried to a greater* extent than ev6r.
Baiid.s of fil'ty or sixty pioneers steal horses, cSttle, and slaves
from the west of Arl^nsas and Louisiana, and sell them in Texas,
where they have their agents; and then, under the disguise of In¬
dian warriors, they attack plantations in Texas, carrying away
with them large herds of horses .and cattle, wdiicli they drive to
Missouri,, tlirough the lonely mountain passes of the Arkansas, or
to the Attalapas and Opelousas disti'iets of Western Louisiana,

172 TBAV£I.S AND ADTENTUEES OP

forcing their way through the lakes and swamps on both shores of
the river Sabine. The party mentioned by the Wakoes was one of
this last description.

We left our friends, and, after a journey of three days, we crossed
the Brazos, close to a rich copper mine, whifih has for ages betm
worked by the Indians, who used, as they do now, this metal for
the points of their arrows and lances. Another three days’ journey
brought us to one of the forks of the Trinity, and there we met
with two companies of Texian rangers and spies, under the com¬
mand of a certain Captain Hunt, wlio had been sent I’rom tlie lower
part of the river to protect the northern plantations. With him 1
found five gentlemen, who, tired of residing in Texas, had taken
the opportunity of this military escort to return to the Arkansas.
As soon as they heard that 1 was going there myself, tht>y offered
to join me, which I agreed to, as it was now arranged that Oabriel
and Roche should not accompany me farther than to the Red River.*

The next morning I received a visit from Hunt and two f)r three
inferior officers, to advise upon tlie Ibllo wing subject. An agrieult ural
company from Kentucky had obtained from the Texian government
a grant of lands on the upper forks of the Trinity. There tweuty-
five or thirty families had settled, and they had with them numerous
cattle, horses, mules, and donkeys of a very superior breed. On
the very evening I met with the Texian rangers, the settlement had
been visited by a party of ruffians, who stole everything, murdering
sixty or seventy men, women, and children, and tiring all the
cottages and log-houses of this jising and prosperous village. All
the corpses were shockingly mangled and scalped, ami as the
assailants were painted in the Indian fashion, the few inhabitants
who had escaped and gained the Texian camp, declai’cd that th«*
marauders urere Coraaiiches.

This I denied stoutly, as did the Comanche party, and vre all
proceeded with the Texian force to Ijewisburg, the site of the
massacre. As soon as I viewed the bodies, lying here and tliere,
I at once was positive that the deed had been committed by white
men. The Comanche chief could scarely restrain his indignation;
he rode close to Captain Hunt and sternly said to him—

“ Stoop, Pale-faoe of a Texian, and look with thy eyes open; be
honest if thou canst, and confess that thou knowest by thine own
experience that this deed is tliat of white men. What Comanche
ever scalped women and children? Stoop, I say, and behold—a

* It may appear sddgular to the reader that the Comanches, always at
war with the Texiena, should not have Immediately attacked the party under
the orders of Hunt. But we were merely a hunting-party; that 1$ to say, our
band was composed diieily of young hunters, not yet 'warriors. On such
occasions, there is frequently, though not always, an ancient wurior for every
eight hunters, just to show to them tbo crafts of the Indian mode of hunting.
Ihese parties often faring with them thelf squaws and children, and never fight
but when obliged to ^ so.

M0N8XBtT& VIO'LBT. 173

hhame on tfiy colour and race—a race of wolves, preying upon each
oth(‘r; a race of jaguars, killing the female after having forced her
—stoop and see.

“ The bodies of the young women have been atrociously and
cowardly abused—seest thou? Thou well knowest the Indian is
(oo noble and too proud to level himself to the rank of a Texian or
of a brute.”

Twenty of our Comanches started on the tracks, and in the
evening brought three prisoners to the camp- They were desperate
blackguards, well known to evcTy one of the soldiers under Captain
Hunt, who, in spite of their Indian disguLse, identified them imme¬
diately. Hunt refused to punish them, or to make any farther
pursuit, under the plea that he had received orders to act against
Indian depredators, but not against white men. ^

Jf such is Hie case,”inbirrupted the Comanche cliief, “retire
' immediately with thy men, even to-night, or the breeze of evening
u ill repeat thy words to my young men, who would give a lesson
(►f justice to the Tevians- Awa}" with thee, if thou valuest thy
scalp; justice shall be done by Indians; it is time they should take
it into their own hands, when Pale-faces are afraid of each other.”

C'aptain Hunt w^as wise enough to retire without replying, and
the next morning the Indians, armed with cords and switches, gave
a severe whijiping to the brigands, for having assumed the
tlomancdie paint and war-whoop. This first part of their punish¬
ment bidng ov<T, th(‘ir paint was washed off, and the chief passed
them ov<‘r to us, who were, with the addition I have mentioned,
now eight white men. “ They are too mean,” said the chief, “ to
receive a warrior’s death; judge them according to your laws;
justice must be done.”

If was an awful responsibility; but w'o judged them according to
the laws of the United sCates and of Texas; they were condemned
to be hung, and at sunset they were executed. For all I know,
their bodies may still hang from the branches of the three large
cotton-wood trees upon the head waters of the Trinity River.

CHAPTER XXVn.

IIVe remained a few days where we were encamped to repose our
horses and enable them to support the fatigues of our journey
through the rugged and swampy wilderness of north-east Texas.
Three days after the execution of the three prisoners, some of our
Indians, on their return from a buffalo chase, informed us tliat
several Texian companies, nipnbering two hundred men, were ad¬
vancing in our direction, and that probably they were out upon an
expedition against the Indians of the Cross Timbm, as they ha^

174 TRAVEtS AKD AWVEMTURES OF

with them mati,t Vs^ag^gons evidently cotit aininc: nothingbnt provisions
and ammunition.

We were encamped in a strong i)Osition, anclj of course, did not
think of retiring. AVe waited for the Texian army, determined to
give them a good drubbing if they dared to attempt to molest us.
Notwithstanding the security of our posit if)n, we lu'pt a good wateli
during the night, but nothing lia]>pened to giv'e ns alarm. The
next morning, two hours after sunrise, wc saw the little army halt¬
ing two miles from us, on the opposite shore of a de(‘p stream,
which they must necessarily pass to com^ to xis. A eompany of the
Comanches immediately darted forward to dispute the passage;
but some flags of truce being displayed by the TexiRns, five or si.v
of them w'cre allowed to swim over nnniole.st<'(l.

^ These W'orthius who came o\er wei'e Captain Hunt, of whom I
hav'e before made mention, and General Smith, commanding th^
Texian army, who w'xs a oertain Initcdier from Indiana, who had
been convicted of having mnrd -red his w-jfe and <!ondennied to be
hanged. Ho had, however, sueceedtal in escaping from the gaol,
and making his w ay to Texas. The third eminent personage was
a Colonel Hookley, and the other two were interpret<'rs. As an
Indian will never hurt a foe who comes with a ll«g of tr\n*e, tin*
Comanches brought these gentlemen up to the camj*.

As soon as General Smith presented himself before the Comanche
chief, he commenoed {f bullying harangue, not stating for what pur¬
pose he had come; telling us gratuitously, that he was the gi'catest
general in the land, and that all the otluw officers w'ore fools; that
he had with him an innumerable number of stoui, and powerful
warriors, who had no equal in the w'orld; and thus he went on for
half an hour, till, breath failing him, he w as ob!ig(‘d to stop.

Afttn* a silence of a few minutes, he asked the < ^omancijc chief
what he could answer to that.^ The chu f loq^ed at him and re¬
plied, with the mo.stineffable contempt; “ Wiat sliould I answer.®”
said he; “I have heard nothing but the wmrd.s of a fool abusing
other fools. I have heard the howd of the wolf long before the
buffalo was wounded; tluTO can l>c no answer to no question; .speak,
if thou canst; say what thou wdshest, or return from whence thou
comest, lest the greatest warrior of Texas .should be VA'hipped by
squaws and boys.”

The ex-butcher w'as greatly incensed at the want of breeding and
manners of the “poor devil of a sava.ge,” but at la,st he eonde.scendod
to coma to the point, First of all, having learned from Cai)tain
Hunt the w^IO transactions at Lewdsburg, and that the Comanches
had detain^ th^ prisoners, he wished to have them restored to him.
Next he wanted to get the three young Pale-faces, who were with
the Comanche.^ (meaning me, Gabriel, and Roche). They were
three thieves, who had escaped from the gaols, and he, the general,
wanted to punish them. After all, they wore three vagabonds.

MOIiSXEUB VIOLET.

175

(\—<\ fetrangors, and strangers had nothing to do in Texas, so he
must have them. Thirdly and lastly, he wanted to have delivered
unto him the five Americans Avho had left Captain Hunt to
. join ns.

Tie suspected them to be rascals or traitors, or they would not
liave joined the'tndians. He, the groat general, wished to investi¬
gate closelj' into ttio matter, and so the (Jomanches had better think
quick alVAut it, for he was in a hurry.

I should here add, that the five Americans, though half-ruined
by the thefts of the Texians, had yet with tliem four or five hun¬
dred dollars in good banli-notes, besides which each had a gold
watch, Avell-fuinished saddle-bags, a good sad<Ue, and an excellent
travelling hor.se. *

The chi(;f answered him;—“Xovv 1 can answer, for I have heard^
Avords having a meaning, although I know them to be great lies. I
first, thou Shalt not have the prisoners who murdered those of
thine own colour, for they are hung yonder upon the tall trees, and
there they shall remain till the vulture.s and the crows have picked
their flesh.

“ I say, secondly, tliat the three young Pale-faws are here and
M ill answer for themselvc.s, if they will or will not follow thee; but
1 S(H! thy tongue can utter big lies, for I know they haA’c never mixed
with tlie Pale-faces of the south. As to the five Yankees, W'c
cannot give them back to thee, because wo can give back only
Avhat we have taken. They are now our guests, and, in our hospi¬
tality they are secure till they leave us of their own accord. I
have said!”

Seai’tiely were these word.s finished, when the general and his
four followers found themselves .snrroimded by twenty Comanches,
who conducted them back to the stream in rather an abrupt manner.
The greatest officer of the land swore revenge; but as his guides
did not understand him, ho was lucky enough to reserve his tongue
for more lies and more swearing at a more fitting time.

He sobn rejoined his men, and fell back with them about a mile,
apparently to prepare for an attack ai)on our encampment. In the
evening, Itoche and some five or six Indians passed the stri^am a few
miles below, that they might observe what the Texians w'ere about;
but unfortunately they met with a party of ton of the enemy hunting,
and Roche fell heavily under his horse, which was killed by a rifle¬
shot. One of the Comanches immediately jumped from his horse,
rescued Roche from his dangerous position, and, notwithstanding
that the Texians were at that instant charging, he helped Roche to
his own saddle and bade him fly. Roche was so much stupified by
his fall that he could not reflect, or otherwise his generous nature
would never have permitted him to save his life at the expense of
that of tixe noble fellow who was thus sacrificing himself. As it
was, ho darted away, and his liberator, receiving the shock of the

176 TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OP

assailauts, killed two of them, and fell pierced with their rifle
balls.*

The report of the rifles recalled Roche to his senses, and, joining
once more the three remaining Indians, he rushed madly upon the
hunters, and, closing with one ofthem, he ripped him up with his knife,
while the Comanches had each of them successfully thrown their
lassos, and now galloped across the plain, dragging after thorn three
mangled bodies. Roche recovered hLs saddle and holsters, and
taking with him the corpse of the noble-minded Indian, he gave to
his companions the signal for retreat, as the regaining hunters
w'ere flying at full speed towards their camp, and succeeded iix
giving the alarm. An hour after, they returned tf us, and, upon
their report, it was resolved that we should attack the Texiaus
.that very night.

About ton o’clock wo started, divided into three bands of seventy
men each, which made our number about equal to that of {\ie
Texians; Roche, who was disabled, with fifteen Indians and the
five Americans remaining in the camp. Two of the bands went
down the river to cross it without noise, w'hile the third, commanded
by Gabriel and me, travelled up stream for two miles, where wo
safely efiFected our passage. We had left the horses ready, in case
of accident, under the keeping of five men for every band. The
plan w’as to surprise the Texians, and attack them at once in front
and in rear; w'e succeeded beyond all expectations; the Texians, as
usual, being all more or less intoxicated. We reached their fires
before any alarm was given.

1 We gave the ivar-w hoop and rushed aijiong the sleepers. Many,
many were killed in their deep sleep of intoxication, but those who
awoke, and had time to seize upon their arms, fought certainly
better than they would have done had they been sober. Tlie
gallant General Smith, the bravest of the brave and ex-butcher,
escaped at the very beginning of the affray, but I saw the Comanche
chief cleaving the skull of Captain Hunt wdth his tomahawk.

Before their onset, the Indians had secured almost all thefenemy's
waggons and horses, so that flight to many became impossible. At
that particular spot the prairie was undulatory aud bare, except
on the left of the encampment, where a few bushes skirted the edge
of a small stream; but these were two few and too .small to afford
a refuge to the Texians, one hundred of whom were killed and
scalped. The remainder of the night was passed in giving chase
to the fugitives, who, at last, halted at a bend of the river, in a
po.sition that could not be forced without great loss of life; so the
Indians left them* and, after having collected all the horses and the

* No Kacredi are the laws of hospitality among these Indians, that a dosien
lives would be saorifioed, if required, to save that of a guest. In sacrificing
himself for Roche the Comanche considered that he was doing a mere act of
Sipty.

HommtrtL vifttii?* 177

booty they thought worth taking away, Utey burnt the waggons,
and returned to their own camp.

As we quitted tlie spot, f eould not help oecasiopally casting a
. glanec behind me, and the spectacle waa truly magnificent. Hun¬
dreds of barrels, full of groase, salt pork, gin, and whisky, were
burning, and the conflagration had now extended to the grass an|Jl
the dry bushes.

We had s<'arc‘ely crossed the river when the morning breeae
sprung up, and now the flames extended in every tUrection, gaining
rapidly upon tho spot where the remaining Texians had stood at
bay. So fiercely and abruptly did tlio flames rush upon them, that
all simultaneoftsly, men and horses, daa*ted into the water
shelter against the devouring element. Many were drowned in the
whirlpools, and those who succeeded in reaching the opposite shoreP
wjjr(‘ too miserable and weak to think of anything, exc‘ept of j*e-
•gdining, if possible, the southern settlements.

Though proteeled from the immediate reach of the flames by the
branch of the river upon the shore of wfllch wo were encamped, the
heat had become so intense that we were obliged to shift farther
to the west. Except in the supply of arms and ammunition, we
perc('ived that our booty w\as worth nothing. This Texian expedi-
t ion must have been composed of a very beggarly set, for there was
not a ‘single yard of linen nor a miserable, worn-out pair of trou¬
sers, to bo found in all their bundles and boxes.

Among the horses taken, some thirty or forty were immediately
nkntified by the Comanches as their own property, many of timm,
during the preceding year, hav ing been stolon by a party of Texians,
who had incited the Indians to a grand council. Gabriel, Roche,
ind T, of course, would accept none of the booty; and as time wa?
now becoming to me a question of great importance, we bade fere-
well to our Comanche friends, and pursued our journey east, in
company with the five Ameriemts.

During the action, the Comanches had had forfy meu wounded
ind only nine killed. Yet, two months afterwards, I read iu one
of the American newspapers a very singular account of the action
It w as a report of General Smith, commandant of the cexfliral force
of Texas, relative to the glorious expedition against the savages, in
which the gallant soldiers of tUo infant republic had achlev^ the
most wonderful exploits. It said that r— ^

“ General Smith having been apprized, by the unfortunate Cap-
lain Hunt, that five thousand savages liad destroyed the ri^g
city of Ijcwisburg, and murdered all the inhabitants, had in^me-
(liately hastened with Ms intrepid fellows to the neighbourbood of
the scenej that there, during niglit, and whten every ujan wus
broken down with Migue, they were clacked by the whole|brce of
the Indians, who had with them some twenty half-breeds and Franeh
md English traders. In spit«‘ of their disadvantages, tine Texians
repulsed the Comanches vrith considerable loiSS, tiU the morning,

M

I/B TftAniT.d A3»D AOVTCXfimtlS OF

when tho Wet^ litpraUtr tired with hilUni^t and the prairie was
eotrered with the corpses of two thousaml savages; the Toxians
then^aelves having lost but thirty or forty nien, and these peopU'
of Utti|e eonseqiionee, being emi^ants ret'cntly arrived from the
Slateai Purbig the d ly, the stench b 'caiue so intolerable, that
tjrenetaJ Smith caused the prairie to be set ou fire, and crossing the
rtver, returneii home by slow marehes, knowing it would tx' quite
ifteloss to pursue the romanebes in, the wild and broken prairies
of the north. Only one T<‘xian ol noto liad perished during the
eonfiiet—^the brave and untortunate Captain Hunt; so that, upon
the whole, considering Ihn numhei* of the enemy, the tepublic may
aonssider this expedition as th(‘ moat glorious entorpruie ainee the
declaration of IfoxUn independence/*

The paragraph went on in thi$ manner till it lUk^d three close
columns, and as a finale, theex-boteher made an appeal to all thegene-
<rronfi and “libprt 3 ’'-loving” sons of the United States and Texas, com¬
plaining bitterly agains.t th«* cabinets of St. James and the Tuileries,
who, jealous of the prosperity atid glory of Texas, Iwwl ei idenby
sent agents (trappers and half-breeds) to exeito tho Srivoges,
through malice, onv 3 % and hatred of the untarnished mme and ho-
nou'' of the great North American Hepuiilie.

The five Americans who atvompanied us were of a superior elass,
three of them from Virginia and two from Maryland, Their his¬
tory was that of many others of their countrymen. Three of them
had studi»^d the law, one divinity, and the other medicine. Having
no opening for the exercise of their profbssiou at hom^^ tlx y had
gone wostwaj’d, to carve a fortune in tho new States; but there
ovmT^thing wjvr in such a state of anarchy, that they could not earn
their subsisteneo; they removed farth<r west, until they entered
Texas, *‘a country sprung up but yesterday, and where an immense
wealth nan bs made.” They found, on their arrival at this antici¬
pated paradise, their chances ot success in their profession still
worse than in their own country. The lawyers diseovt red tliat, on
a moderate computation, thoro were not less than ten thousand
attorneys in Texas, who had emigrated from the Kastern States;
the president, tlse secretaries, constables, tavom-kecpm*s, generals,
privates, sailors, portcTs, and horst*-thieveR, w'ere all of them origi¬
nally lawyers, ot had been brought up to that profession,

to the doctor, he soon found that the apologue of the “ Wolf
and the ^tcg^lc*’ had been written purposely for medical practice in
fhr as soon as ho had cured a patient (picked the bone out
of hiif^throat), |ie* liad to comsider himself very lucky if ho could
escuroe from ji^*a*doson inches of the bowie-knife, by way of rt*-
<^ia^ence; mo^^OVer. every visit cost him his pocket-hand kerchief
or Ibis 'badoo-MSf, if bn had any* I have to remark here, that ker-
chlef-takhig is a most commem joke in Texas, and I wonder very
much at it, as $10 individual of the male species, in that promised
dut> **^*’*‘ oortimodlty to its right use, employing for

trpose t£ie pair of sniiMs wbi^ oatorai instinot has supplied

MO»r«*Erit no*;«T.

lum with. At lh^‘ same tiuif', it must bt* a<|mitt«4 that no prof^
sinnal man can expect employment, without ho can fiduriif^ ft
pockct-handkcrchh'f

As for the (IIvine, ho ‘»oon found that religion tras not ft ooramd-
»hty required m so young a country, and that he might just as well
hav(' «!i>(‘culatocl in sending a cargo of skates to the West Indies, or
supplying hlussiilmaus with swine. The merits of the voluataiT'
s) stem had not beem yet appreciated in Texas; and^if he did preftch,
ho had to preach by himself^ not being able to obtain a ederk to
make the responses. *

As we travelled aJong the dreary prairies, these five Eldo.
rado seekers proved to be jovial felloWS) and there was abont them
an elasticity of temper wjiich did not allow them to despond. The
dn ino had made up his mind to go to Home, and oonverfc the Pop^
who, after all, was a clever old hon vivanii the doctor would go to
p l^mburgh, and get selected, from his superior skill, as president of
the Surgical l^oHege; one of the lawyers determined he would “nm
for legislature," or keep a bar (a whisky one); the second wished
to join the Mormons, who were a sot of clever blackguards; and
the third thought of going to China, to teach the celestial bibber
of the sun to use the Kentucky rifle, and ” lamsh the English," Barnet
individuals m England have reproached me with indulging too much
in building castles in the air; but certainly, compared to those of a
Yankee m search after wealth, mine haie been most sober specula-
tious.

h-acb of our new companions had some little Texian Idstory to
relate, whicli they declared to be the most rascally, but Amartith
trii k in the w orld. One of the lawyers was once siunmonod before
a magistrate, and a false N*wv Orleans fifty-doUar bank-note wga
presented to him, as the identical one he had given to the clerk of
Treraout House (the great hot( 1 at Galveston), in payment of his
weekly bdk Now, the lawyer had often dreamed of fifties, hun¬
dreds, and even of thousands; but fortime had been so fickle with
idm, that he had never been in possession of bank-notes higher than
fnc or ten dollars, except one of the glorious Cairo ’bank twemty-
dollar notes, which his father presented to him In Baltimore, When
he advised him most paternally to try Jiis luck in the west

By-the-bye, the twenty-doHar Cairo note’s adventum should b©
written in gold letters, for St enabled the traveler to eiat, sleep, and
drink, free of cost, from LOtfisvillft to St, XiOuis, through
and iilmois; any tavern-keeper preferring losing the price of a M
or of a meal, sooner than run the risk of retarijing good chanl^ xbr
bad money. The note was finally changed in $t, Louis for ft three-
dollar, bank of Springfield, which belU^ yet curr^t, ftt aii
of four cents to the doUftr* enabled the fortunate owner to *a^ Kis
last tumbler of port-wine aangaree before his departuife fer Tl^i^

Of course, the lawyer had no remorse of cousoleipm ^ llfosi^ug

lao TEAVJBLS AND ADVDNTDEES OF

ttjat the aote bad neyer been his; but the tavern-keeper and two
wtinesses swore tphis having given it, iind tlie poor fellow was con¬
demned to recash and pay expenses. IIa% ing not a cent, he was
a^evved to go, for it so happened that the gaolw'as not built for such
vagabonds, but for the government oflBccrs, who had their sleeping
apartments in it. This circumstance occasioned it to be remarked
by a few commonly honest people of Galveston, that if the gates of
gaol were closed at night, the community would bo much im¬
proved. ,

Three days aft®wards» a poor captain, from a Boston vessel, was
summoned for the very ididvtloal bank-note, which ho was obliged
to pay, though he had never set Ids foot into the Tremonf Ilotel.

There is in Galveston a new-invented trade, called “the rag
^rad<^** which is very profitable. I refer to tho purcliasing and
selling of false bank-notes, which are, as in the la^vyer’s ca^o,
palm^ upon any stranger suspected of having money. On such'
occasions, the magistrate and the plaintiff share the booty. 1 may
as well here add a iact which is weU known in France ami the
United States. Bight days after tlie Marquis de SuHgny’s (French
charge d’affaires) arrival in Houston, ho was sxunmoned before a
magistrate, and, upon the oaths of the parties, found guilty of having
passed seven hundred dollars in false notes to a land speculator.
He paid the money, but as he ne\ or had had in his possession any
money, except French gold and notes of the Banque de Fram^e, he
complained to his govemrocmt; and this specimen of Texian ho¬
nesty was the principal cause why the banker (Lafitte) suddenly
broke the arrangement he had entered into with General Hamilton
(charge d'affaires from Texas to England and Franco) for a loan of
seven millions of dollars.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Wb had now entered a tract of land .similar to that which n o had
travelled over when on our route from the Wakoes to the Coman-
chea. The prairie was often intersected by chasms, the bottoms
of which were perfectly dry, so that wo could proxmre water but
once every twenty-four hours, and that, loo, often so hot and so
ximdily, horses would not drink it freely. They

had, however, the advantage over us in point of feeding, for the
grass was sweet and tender, and moistened during night by tho
heavy dews; as for ourselves, we were beginning to starve in *
earnest.

We had anUclpated regaling ourselves with the juicy humps of
the buffaloes which we should kill, but although we had <‘ntered
the very heart of thdr great pasture land, wo had not met with
one, nor even with a ground-hog, a snake, or a frog. One e\ eniug,
pangs of hunger bet^imC so sharp, that we were obliged to chew
tobat'co and pieced Of leather to allay our cravings; find we deter-

UOXSXEUA VXOtST. 1^1

niiaed that If, tho next day at sunset, we liad no better fortune, we
would draw lots to kill one of our horses. That ovoning we could
noi sleep, and as luurniuring was of no avail, the divine entef-
’ tained us ^\Uh a Texlaii story, just, as he said, to pump the auper-
Huous air out of lus body. I .sliall give it in his own terms;—

“ I was coming dow-n the Wabash Eiver (Indiana), when;
as it liappi'ns nine limes tmt of ten, tlu* .st(^am-boat got abound,
and that so firmly, that there was no hope of her floating again till
llu‘ next tiood; so I took my wallet, wailed for two hundred yards,
with tli<‘ water to my knees, till I got safe on shore, upon a thick-
timbered bank, full of rattle-snakes, thorns of tho locust-tree, and
s[jid('r,s’ webs, so strong that I whs obliged to <mt them with my
nose, to eloiir tho way before me. I spon got so entangled by tlie
vines and the briars, that 1 thought I liad Wttor turn my back to
the stiN'am till I should get to the upland, which 1 could now and*
tlj^u pereei\e through tiie elearinffs opened between tho trees by
•root'iit tliunder-storms. Unhappily, between tho upland and th©
little ridgt' on which I stood there was a wide river bottom,* into
which 1 had scarcely ^Ml^allced tifty yards, when I got bogged.
Wei), it took me a long u bile to get out of my miry hole, where I
WAS as fast as a swine in its Arkansas sty; and then 1 looked about
for my wallet, which 1 had dropped. I could see which way it had
gone, for, elo.se to tho yawning i*ircle from which I had just extri-
ealoil my&olf, there was another smaller one, two yards otf, into
uliieh my wallet had sunk deep, though it was comfortably light;
which goes to illn.strate the Indiana saying, tliat there is no con¬
science so light but will .sink in the bottom of tho Wabash. Well,
I did not care much, as in my wallet I had only an old coloured
.shirt and a dozen of my own sermons, which X know by heart,
liiiving repeated them a hundred times o> or.

“ Being now in a regular fix, I cut a stick, and began whittling
and whistling, to lighten my sorrows, till at last I perceived at the
bank of tlte river, Jind five hundred yards arhead, one Of those large
rails, eonstructecl pretty much like‘Noah’s ark, in which a Wabash
farmer einbark.s his cargo of women and fleas, pigs and chickens,
corn, wliisky, rats, sheep, and stolen niggers; indeed, in most cases,
thi' whole of the cargo is stolon, except the wife and children, the
onlv portion whom the owner would very much like to bd rid oft
hut these will stick to him as naturally as a prairie fly to a hiunge,
a*, long as he has spirits to drinlc, pigs to attend to, and breeches to
mend.

“ Well, as she was close to the bank, I got in. The owner was
General John Meyer, from ‘Vluconnes, and his three sons—tbe
nel, the captain, and the judge. They lent me a sort of thing
which, many years before, had probably been a horse-blaiiket.
With it I covered myself, while one of the ‘ boys * spread my clothes
to dry, and as I had nothing left, in the world, except thirty dollars
in my pocket-book, 1 kept that constantly in my hand till the
evenmg, when my clothes being dried, I recovered tho use of lay
pocket The general was free with his * Wabash water ’ (western
appellation fbr whi.sky), and finding me to his taste, as he said, he

4

* niver bottom Is a space, sometltuee of mauy mites In width, on the ekle of
the river, runnlos parallel with it. U Is always very valnahte and proditetive
lanii, but unhealthy, and dangerous to cross, from Its boggy URtore,

182

TKAVCl-S AN1> ApVJSNlUIlES OF

o^ered ttio a passage gratis to Now Orleans, if I could but submit
myself to homily tare; that is to say, salt pork, with plenty of
gravy, (bar times a "day, and a decoction of imrnt bran and grams
of siaist^ going under the name of coflee all over the States—the
wh^ky was to be ad liintum.

“As I considered the terms moderate, I agreed, and the ho<spi-
tabie general soon intrusted me with ids plans. Ho had gone m uvy
thnOS to Texas; he loved Texas—^it was. a free comdry, aceoiding
to^his heart; and now he had collected all his own (he might have*
said *and other people’s too'), to go to New Orleans, where his
p^ and com, excliangod against goods, would enable him to settle
wuh his famil}'’ m Texas hi a gallant stjle. Upon my inquiring
what could be thd cause oi a certain abominable smell whi< h pt r-
vaded the cabin, ho apprized me that, in a small elosot ndjommg,
he had secured a do/en of runaway negroes, for the appi ehension
®r whom he would be well rewarded.

"'Well, the next morning we went on pretty sniigiv, and 1 h#l
nothing to complain of, except the ileas and the ‘ gals,’ w lio tiot lieredi
me hot a little. Three daj s afterwards we entered the Ohio, and
the current being very strong, I liegan to think myst U fortunate,
I should reatni New Orleans in less than forty d lys, passigo
tiW. We went on till night, when we stopped, three or four miles
from thu junction with the Mississippi. Tlio cabin being very
wastQ, Ptid the deck in possession of the pigs, I thought I would
sleep usliore, under a tree. The general said it was a capital plan,
and aitm* having drained half-a>dozen cups of ‘stiff, trm, down-
rtebt Yankee, No. 1,’ we all of us took our blankets (I mean the
vmlUMskinaed party), and having lighted a great firt, the general,
tho colonel, the major, and the judge laid dowu*-an example winch
t fbUouted as soon as I had nea< ly folded up roy coat niid faxed it
Upon a bush, with tny liat and boots, for i was now geicmg parti-
enhur, and wished to cut a flgnre in Sew Orleans; my thoughts
roufaing upon plump and ricli wido^\s, which you know are tho
ctoly provision for us preachers.

"Well* my dreams wera nothing but the contintiatioti of my
thou^ts daring the day. I fancied 1 was married, and the owner
of a large sugar plantation. I had a good soft bed, and my pious
wifb pras feeling about me with her soft hands, probably to sec if
my heurt beat ^uick, and if I had good dreams—a pity I did not
awakse then, for I should have saved my dollars, as the hand which
I wp dfeaming of, was that of the hospitable general searching for
aay pocket-book. It was late when I opened my eyes—and lo I the
llSeepens were gone, with the boat, roy boots, my coat, my hat, and
I Aopn foriund, with my money. I liad been left alone, w ith a greasy
kumktnawblanket, and as In my stupefaction 1 gazed all round,
a!d|dpp jMid down,! saw my poekot-book empty, whith the generous
had humanely left to me, to put other notes in, ‘ when I
could get | kicked it with my foot, and should indubitably

have been ibod Ihr cat-fish, had I not heard most apropos the
puffing of a steanl-boat coming down the i ivor.’*

M that momenl tlbe parson interrupted his narrathe, by obsor-

^ “ WeU, Fd no Mea that I had talked so long; why, man, look to
^ ^fis almest daylight.'’

i plire enough the horizon df the prairie was skirted with that

»0K8];ftt;& viotJSf.

red tinge wlilch always antto^mccs the break of day in these immonsf
level solitudes. Oiir companions had all fallen asleep, and 0)pr
horses, looking to the oast, snuffed the air and stamped upon tho
ground, as if to o\prop's their impatience to leave so inhospitable a
region. I repliv'd to the pu*soij—

“ It is now too late for us to think of slwping; let us stir the fire,
and go on with your story."

"W e added fuel to th** nearly eonsnmed pile, and shaking <w
blankets, which were heavy with the dew, my companion resumed
his uarr*ative:—

“ Weil, I rotdeon It was mure than half an hour belbre the steam*
boat o.niie in sight, and as the channel of the ri\ or ran close in with
1 ho short*, 1 was soon picked up. The boat was goiitg to St.
and ns 1 had not a eeut left to pay my passage, I was obligtHl, in
ol piynrnt, to ri'late my adventure. Everybody laughed.

• All the uieh declared tho joke was evcsllenl, and that Crtnerai*Meyer
w a*, a chn cr ras<*al; tliey told mo 1 should midouhtwlly meet with
him at Nt w Orh aiis, but it would be of no use. Everybody knew
Mi'vcr and lus pious taniUy, but he* was so smart, that nothing
(ould he done against him. Well, the elcrk was a good-humoured
l»‘ilow; he k lit me an old coat and five dollars; the sU*w*ird brought
me a pair ot si»ppcrN, and somebody gave me a worn-out loOse cap.
This wa.s v<‘ry good, but my luck was better still. The enuse of
my ow n ruin hud bo» n the grounding of a stoam-boatj the same
uccidtut li.’ippening a^ain set nU'* oa my legs. Just as we turned
the soullurn p6iut Ol lllmoiB, we buried ourselvt*s in a saib bed of
mud. it wa.s so common an ocourr'.nce that nobody oawd muftU
about it, except a Philadelphian going to Texas; he was in a great
hurry to go on w( stwiu'ri, and no wondi r. 1 learned afterwards that
lie had ab.scomkU Iroin tho bank, of which ho was a cashier, with
sixty thousand dollars.

•‘‘Well, as I said, we were hopped; patience was nocessarj^t
laments were of no use, so we dined ''SSjth as much appetite m if
nothing had happened, and some of the regular ‘boys^ took to
‘ Yooka,’ to kill the time. They were regular hands, to be sur&
but I was myself trump No. 1. Eity we have tto cards with us; it
would be amusing to be the first man introducing that gaifie i«to W
western prairies. Well, I looked on and by-apa-bye. I get tired tff
being merely a spectator. My nose itcheiW-my fingers tpp. J
twisted my tive-doUar bill in ail seiisesj till a sharp took me for a
fiat, and Im proposed kindly to pluck ttio out-aiid*out, I^pluok®«
him iu lc*.8 than up time, winning eighty dollars at a sitting; pnd
when we left oil' for tea, I felt that 1 had acquired «ron^uenco> and
even merit, for money gives both, louring the night x
successful, that wheai I retired to Iny berth 1 found mjBfK
owner of four hundred and fffty dollars, a gold watch, a gold
and a silver ’baeco-box. Bvafything is useful in this world, oven
getting a*ground. Now, I never repine at anything* , , - *' '

“ The next day another eteam-boat passed, and pickw Uf np.
It was one of those light crafts which Speculate upon mikfwrtusSi^;
they hunt after stranded boats, as a wolf after wounded deyr-jg^
talie oft’ the passengers, and Oharg® What t^y P‘®k^ Erqip Cin¬
cinnati to St. I.ouls, the faro was ten doliarai W Jnd uuooi&scifi^
tious wreok-sceker of a captain charged us twsnty'jiYC dollars eaOh

184 TRAVEtS AND ADVENTITREB OP

for the remainder of the trip—onu day’s journey, Houever, I did
not earo.

“An Arkansas man, \iUo had no more money, sold mo for fiftoi'ii
dollars, Ins wallet, a fane great coat, tw(j clean hfairts. and a hat;
from anothei*, I purchased a pair of bran-new Bos 1 on-made, el<*frant
black breeclns, that when J landed in St. Louis, I cut a
regular figure, wcmt to Planter’s Hotel, and in the course of a w cs'k
made a good round sum by three lectures u])on the vaiiith's of the
world and the sin of desponding. Well, to cut matters short—l>y-
tlie-bye, there must ho somc'thing wrong .stirring in tlic prairie;
look at onr horses, how uneasy tli<‘y s<>em to bo! Dou't you hear
anything?"

Our horses, indeed, were beginning to grow wild with exeitement,
and thinking that their instinct had told them that woUt^** were
near, I tied them closer to where w<’ bivouacked, and then applied
jfty cars to the ground, to try and catch any sound.

“I hear no noise," said I, “except the rooming bree/e pTsshi*:^ t
through the w ithensl grass. Our horses have bet n smelling w oh <'s,
but the brutes will not approach our fire."

The par.>«on, who had a great faith in my “ W'hitc Indian miturc,'
resuraf*d the thread of Ins narrative:—

“To cut the matter .short, I pa.ss over my trip to NewOrh.ms
and Galveston. Suffice it to say^ tliat I was a gentlemajii prt‘a( le r.
with plenty of money, and that the Texiaiis—pre.sidcnt, generals,
and ail—condescended to eat my dinners, though they w<mld not
hear ray sermons; even the women looked softly upon ims lor 1
two trimlvs, linen in plenty, and 1 had taken tiu* precaution in
Louisiana of getting rid of my shin-plasters for hard sjtecie. I
could have married anybody it 1, ha<l wished, from the presidentV
old mother to the barmaid at the ta>ern. I fvad money, and to mt*
all was .smiles and sunshine. One' <lay, 1 mot (Tcncral John Meyer;
the Impudent follow came immediately to me, shook my hand in
quite a cordial manner, and hiquired how my iiealth had b« i n sineo
he had seen me last. Tliat w'jis more than my professi<jnal meek¬
ness could <*ndure, so I reproached him with his rascality and abu.s(‘
of hospitality towards me, adding that I exported lu' would now
repay me what he had so unceremoniously taken from me while I
was asltK>p. General Meyer looked perlcctly aglmt, and called me
a liar, a scoundrel, and a villain, he rushed upon me with his drawn
bowie knife, and would have indubitably murdered me, had he not
been prevented by a tall and powerful chap, to whom, hut un hour
before, I had lent, or given, five dollars, partly from fear of him,
and partjy.from compassion for his destitution.

“The next day* I started for Houston, where I settled, .'ind
preached to old women, children, and negroes, while the white male
population were g<'ttiTig drunk, swearing, and fighting, just bt‘fore
the door of the church. I had scarcely b<‘en there a month when
a constable arrested me on the power of a warrant obtained against
mo by that rascally Meyer, Brought up before the magistrate, 1
was confronted with the blac'kguard and five other rascals of his
stamp, who positively took their oaths that they had seen me taking
the pofeket-book of the general, which be had left accidentally upon
the table in the bar of Tremont’s. The magistrate said, that out
of for the chjMracter of my profession, he would not push

MONSIEUH VIOIJST.

m

the affair to extremities, but that T must imtfliediatel)’-give bade the
tu<* hunciretl dollars Meyer said 1 had stolen from him, and pay
til ty dollars besides fur the expenses. In vain I demonstrated ray
iimooence; no choiee was left to mo but to pay or go to gaol.

“ By that time 1 knew pr<'tty well the character of the neojde
among whom T ^^■as living; t kiiew there was no justice to whom I
c'(>uld apply; I redconod also that, if once put in gaol, they would
nnl only lake the two huudroil ami fifty dollars, hut also the whole
I possessed. So 1 submitt(*d, as it was the best I could do; I re-
ino\ed iininediatoly to another part of Texas, but it would not do.
J<'aiLh, the Texiaiis are a v(Ty ugly set of gents.”

“And Meyer,” I interrupted, “what of hini?”

“Oh!” replied the parson, “that is another story. Why, he
returned to Ts'ew Orlc'uns, where, with his three sons, ho eomtoitted
an awful murder upon the cashier of the legislature; he was gotw
t’itg away w ith twenty thousand dollars, hut being caught in the
art, he uns tried, sentenced,and hanged, with all Jiis hopeful pro¬
geny, and tlie old negro hangman of New Orleans had, tho hohour
of making, in one day, a close acquaiutiuico with a general, a colo¬
nel, a uiajoi', ainl a judge."

“What, talking still!” exclaimed the doctor, yawning; he had
just awoke. “What the devil can you have babbled about dur-
iiig the whole blessed night ? Why, ’tis morn!”

Saying this, he took ii]) his watcli, looked at it, applied it to his
ear, to see if it had not stopped, and exclaimed:—

“By jingo, but 1 am only half-past one.” The parson drew oA
his also, and la'peatecl tho same, “Balf-past one!"

At that moitK‘ut. tho broeuc frWhened, and J heard the distant
and imitlled uoiso which in the west announces either an earth¬
quake, or an ehtampedc of herd.s of wild cattle and other
animals. Our Tjorses, too, were aware of some danger, for now
they were positively mad, struggling to break tho lassoes and
escaj)e.

“TJ]),” I cried, “up, Gabriel, Ilocho, up—up, strangers! quick!
saddle your boasts! niu far your lives; the prairie is on fire, and
the buflaloes are upon us!”

They all started upon their feet, b«t not a word was exchanged;
each I'elt the dangoi* of his position; speed was our only resource,
if it was not already too late. In a minute our horses were sad-
dh'd, in another we >vere madly galloping acro.s8 the prairie, the
bridles upon the necks of our steeds, allowing them to follow their i
instinet. Such had been our hurry, tjiat all our blankets wore left
iKjhind, except that of Gabriel; the lawyers had never thought of
their saddle bags, and tlie parson had forgotten his holsters and
his rifle.

For an hour we dashed on with undirainished speed, when we felt
the earth trembling behind us, and soon afterwards the distant
bellowing, mixed up with the roaring and sharper cries of other'

TKAVUliS AND ADViNTUitES or

animals, was borne do^\n unto our oar‘>. The ;'<^inosph'iv 'j'rew
opprossiv^ and heavy, wliili* tin- llanu's, huil'tor tliiiii tht v^uul, ap¬
peared raging upon the }u)ri/.<in. Thofh'ottr g^nue of all kinds
now shot pa&t us like arrows ; (lo( i* wei •' bonmliu^ over tlw yi’oinni.
in company with v; oh os .lud p intlu rs, dro\( s ot i Iks ami anU ](»')< s
passed swdrter tlian a div.ini; tin u .i solitary liorsi* or a la. ’ luit
lalo-bull. From our intense auxiot}, although our luu'ses mi nn 1
every nerve, v/e almost K})})eared to stand still.

The atmosphere rapidly heeame nitin d. nst', tin heat leoii
oppi*cssiv'e, the roars sound'd hmdt'r and IoikK r m otir t ar''. no>v
and then they wer<* miiuled with tcrrine howls an I shi ill ‘•.ui-nls,
so unearthly that even our horses wouhi sl< ) ii.i o- ui td eat -1 'ii'l
tremble, as if thov considered them supi rm.tin .'1: oit it w^st-uh
tor a second, aud tlu'v daslu'd on.

A noble stag passed ehise to n-., his sluv,; t'xn tust<?h,

tliroe niiniilos afterwards Wi p is^etl^hnn-d-a.. *hit stH-n, with
the rushing noise of a w hirlw ind, the iui'«s o) h m tu ;uil h j
speedy animals (lusv*l upon us' hull,do >. tas 1 wed 'loisis, all
imvpti together, an iinineusc dirk ]iod\, tm' s i.i ItOid, inf ^ i.
dej'th; on they came, trampl'n"- an 1 d isnnu tl ’ < v < w obM i

cle. This phalanv was but two mill s li >in iis. (he. lens, w.n*

nearly evhansied; we gaie our ih,> up Jor lo-* (. s' 'i 'uidt

more, and we should he <*ni‘hed to .ilo ^

^At that monieiil, the .sonorous \ on ' ol Mdi i » I, ^ ,t i

and imperative. Ife had long hem aninto*) I !.» < in < , u*

now he faced it wdth li’s uKhun^l'le eii r , a‘ u su i 'm w. i
hi.s proper elein' nt:—

“Down from i^our horses,” rrk d he , “hi iwo ol \ou 1 .pi], o
steady. SUip oil your shins, Uiii n. anythim tliut will (a!, or. ,
quick, not a minute is to be lost.’*

Saying this, he ignited some tindir with t)i ]> u, o( hi- ].isioi,
and was soon busy in niaking a fnv uuh all Uie clotlns wi now
threw to him. Then wv tore up with i I 'uass .aid l>uilaloduu\
and dashed them on tlie heap.

Before three nunuti s had passed, ouj- tiro hurned (i rei ly. On
came* the teri*ili(*d m.iiis ot auim.ils, and pcrcei\ 1112 the 11 inu ot our
fire before them, tlvy 1 oared with ragi* and terror, >i*( tin y turned
not, as we had hoped. On they eame, and already we could dis¬
tinguish their horns, their tcet, and the white loam; our iuel wa*.
burning out, the flames wore lowering; the parson gave a scream,
and fainted. Oh came the maddened myriads, m*arer and nearer;
I could sec thch' wild eyes glaring; they wheeled not, opened not

a passage, but came on, like messengers of death—-nearer_nearer-

nearer still. My brain reeled, my eyes gi’ew dim; it was horrible,
most horrible! I dashed down, with my face covered, to meet my
fate.

mommt I heard an explosion, then a roar, as if proceed-

MONSlEtiR VlOEilT. 1^7

ir)g- from ton millions of buffalo-bulls—so stunning, so atnpifying wfiis
tli(* soTiiul from tlio mass of animals not. twenty yards from tts-
, KaMi uiomnit I exported the hoofs v^hich were to trample ns to
atoiii.s; and yet d(Mth came not. I only hoard the rushing as of a
mighty wind and the trembling of tiiO earth. I raised, my head,
and looliod.

(j.'dn’ii'l at tli(‘ <Titieal moment J)ad poured some whisky upon
the tlamoh, llio leatlun'ii bottle had exploded, xvith a blaze like
lightning, and, at the <‘\ponso of thousands crushed to death, the
animahs had Crum eontaet with the tierce, blue column of

u hii'h had l)‘H*n ere.ited. lir;for<' and behind, all around us,
v.( t*<!iild si-i' nr.ilihig but the shaggy ^^ool of the huge monsters;
not a eis?\i<T xvas to !>r se<'n in tlie flying masses but tho narrow
lij^e uhieh li id b.'isi o}i 'iied to a^oid our tire.

Jn this d.in'w';'(Viis jiusdien uo remained for one hour, our lixms
di-j).' ndiiig lipi n th<' .niimals not doling the line; but I’rovidonce
\-atched oMc u^, .nul after xvlud. appoavtd an eternity of intense
''Uspimse, tlie oolnmns Ijeearne tliiimer and thinner, till we found
ourselves <mly (‘jieirelod with the weaker and more exhausted
anhual.s, V.hieh bi‘on''iif up the ri-ar. Our first danger xx'as over,
hut we had .-til! to e.'-eajr' irom one as imminent — the pursuing
i.‘ U'lc, now so mmh i loser to ns. The whole prairie behind «s was
■ \i lifs' and tlie roaring i leiuent was gaining on us xxitli a frightful
p cd. Oil -e more v.>> sprang upon our saddles, and the horst^s,
wj !i r 'eo\ or. d w iml and with strenjrth ten-fold increased by their
'( ar, s.joii bn>uglit u^ to the I’ear tUf the huffaloes.

It was an awful .sight! a sea of fire roaring in its fury, with its
heavih'.' waM.-- and nnearfhly hisso.s, approaching nearer and
TRcirer, nr inog on .sw'ift'u* than the sliarp morning breeze. Had
we not jn.'.t. ("-(‘aped .-o uiiexpoch'dly a danger almost as terrible,
we siiouUl luive despaired and left olfuTi ajiparently useless struggle
for our lives.

Awayw'e da.shed, ovei Idll'^ and down declivities; fornowtho
ground had become more broh. ii, Tho fire wa.s gaining fast upon
us, when we iii.'reej v ed that, a mile a-hea,d, lh<' immense herds be-
lore us had eiitorod a deep, broad chasm, into w’hich they dashed,
thousands upon thousands, tumbling headlong into the abyss. But
Jiow, tho fire rushing quicker, blazbtg fiercer than l>efbre, aS if
determined not to lo.se its prey, curled Its weaves above our heads,|
smotlK'ring us with its heat and lurid smoke.

A few seconds more we spurred in agony; speed was life; the
chasm was to be our preservation or our tomb. Down we darted,
actually born upon the backs of the descending mass, and lam|ed,
without sense or motion, more than a hundred feet belnir* As
soon as we recovcR-ed from the shock, we found that weh^ been
most mercifully preserved; strangei to say, neither horse nor rideae
had received any serious injury. We heard, above our heads, the

188 TRAVJBM) AND ADVDNTURES OP

htssiDg and craokinc: of tlio fire; we eonteinplatod 'with awe the
flames, which were roarinf? alonf? the edftf* oi prooipic<‘—now

rising, now lo’\\cring, as if they would leap over tlu* space and
annihilate all life in those western solitudes.

"We were preseiwed; our fall had been broken by the animals
who had taken the l<*ap a second before us, and by the thousands
of bodies which were heaped up as a hecatomb, and ree(*i\rd ns as
on a enshion below. With difficuliy we cAtricatod onrseUts and
horses, and descending the mass of carcasses, W( -at last tiuceoodcd
in rt'aching a few acres of clear ground. It was ('hwab'd a fi w f<'ct
aboAo the water of the torrent, which ran through th(' ravine,
and offered to our broken-dowm horses a magnificent pasturt' of
sweet blue grass. But the poor things W(T(* too teniliul and
Ovhausted, and they ‘•tretclicd tlioinsches down upon tin ground, a
painful specta<l<* of utter lu'lplessncss. *

We perceived that the crowds of flying animals li.id suee<‘cded in
finding, some way further dowm, an ascent to tlu‘ opposite ])raine,
and as the earth and rocks .still trembled, we know that tin'
“ostampede” had not c< as«'d, and lliat the millions of logit ivcs hcul
resu ned their mad career. Indec'd, there was still dangc-r, lor the*
wind was high, and carrj'ing before it large* shc‘t*l of il.'ime'' tc» llr*
opposite* side, where* llu* dried grass and hushes soon bi eann*
ignited, and the dcslriuti\e element thus passed the ehasm, and
continued its pursuit.

We* congratulated ourselves upon having thus found security,
and returned thanks to lu'aven ^r our wonderful I'^cape, Jiiul a
we W'ere now safe from irnmeuTato dan^-n*, we lighted a tire* and
feastefl upon a joung buflalo>call', eMTy bone of wliieli we lound
had been broken into splinters,*

CHAPTER XXIK.

Two daj’s did we remain in our .shelter to regain our strength and
to rest our hor>,es. Thus deeply buried in the bosom ol tlie e*arlli,
wc were safe from the devastating clement. On tic* second daj
we heard trememdous claps of thunder; wo knew that a storm w.is
raging which would quench the fire, but we cari'd little about what
was going on abo%c*.

\

* J have stud, At a venture, tliat wo descended more than a hundred feet into
the chasm before we fairly landed on tho bodiea of the aninuda. The cha&ni
itfielf could not have been less than two hundred and fifty to throe hundred toot
deep at the part that we plunged down. Thia will give the reader aomo Idea of
the vast quantity of liodlea of animalti, chiefly bufPalnes, which were there piled
up. I consider that this pile must have been formed w holly from the foremost
of the nmw, and that when formed, it broke the fall of the others, who fol-
lotvcd as it did our own; Indeed, the summit of the heap was pounded
into a AUft of jelly.

MONSXBUB VI 6 I 1 ET. 188

TVo had plenty to eat and to drink, our ■steods were recovering
la&t, .and, in spite of the horrors we had just undergone, we were
not a litlle amused by the lamentations of the parson, who, recol-
, leeting the destruction of Ms shirts, forgot his professional duty,
and swoi*(‘ against Texas and the Texians, against the prairies, the
buffaloes, and the lire. The last event had produced so deep an
impression upon his mind, that he preferred shivering all night by
the banks of the torrent to sleeping near our comfortable fire; and
as to eating of the delicate fbod before him, it was out of the que.s-
tion; he would siiek it, but not masticate nor swallow it; his
stom.'H'h and his teeth refused to accomplish their functions upon
the abborrc'd meat, and he sohonnly declared that never again
would he taste bet‘f~cow or calf—tame or wild—even if ho were
starving.

^ne of the lawyers, too, was loud in his complaints; for although
born in the States, he had in his veins no few drops of Irish blood,
and (ould not forget the sacrifice Gabriel had made of the whisky.
“ Sueii stuff I” heould exclaim, ‘*the best that ever came into
this land of alwminatiou, to bo thrown into the face of dirty buffar
loo!—tlie doil take thorn! Eh! Monsheer Owato Wanisha—
queer outlandish name, by-thc-bye—please to pa.s.s me another slice
of the vamiint (ine.unng the buffalo calf). Bless my soul, if I did
not think, at ou(» time, it was after the liquor tho brutes were
running.”

Upon the morning of the third day, wo resumed our journey, fol-
l(»uiugthe stream down for a few miles, over thousands of dead
animals, w'hit'h tlie now fbaming' torrent could not wash away.
W(* struck the winding path which th(‘ “ estampedados ” had taken,
and a.s it had boon workc'd by the millions of fugitives into a gentle
ascent, ve found ourselves, long before noon, once more upon the
levf'l oftheprairi^ What a spectacle of gloom and death! As
far as tlie eye coiud reach the earth was naked and blackened.
IVot a stem of gra.ss, not a bush, had escaped the awful conflagrar
tion; and thousands of half-burnt bodies of doer, buffaloes, and
mustangs, covered the prairie in ©very direction.

The horizon before us was concealed by a high and rugged ridge
ot tlie roiling prairie, towards which we proceeded but slowly, so
completely was the track made by the buffaloes choked by burnt
bodies of all descriptions of animals. At last we reached the smn-
init of the swell, and perceived that we were upon one of tlie head
branches of the Trinity River, forming a kind of oblong lake, a
mile broad, but exceedingly shallow; tho bottom was of a hard
white sandy form.ation, and as we crosscMi this beautiful sheet of
ch'ar water, the bottom appeared to bo studded with grains of gold
and crystals.

This brou^t round tho characteristic elasticity of temper be¬
longing to the Americans, and caused tho doctor to give why to his

m

TJft VrjcWASD A.TOVTV'rtTIftS OF

mental spocitlations. Ho would not go t<i Ediuburgli; it was non¬
sense; here was a fortune made. He would form a eonipany in
New York, capital one million of dollars—the. Gold, Emerald,
Topa«, Sapphire, and Ainolhyst Assoeial ion, iuten thousand shares,
one hundred dollars a-pieee. In five years he would be the richest
man in the world; he would build ten cities on the Mississippi, and
w’'Ould give powder and load to the Comanchesfor nothing, so that
thoy could at once clear the world of Tevians and bnffaloc,. JJe
had scarcely finished when we reached the other side ol the lake;
there W'C had to pass over a narrow ritlge, cowa-ed with green
hushes, but now'torn and trampled down; the herds had passed
over there, and the lire had been extinffuisbed by the waters of
this “ fairy lake,” for so w'o had bapU/:ed it. Tlall-an-hour more
brought us cl^ar out from the eoicr, and a most strange and un-
sight was presented to our eye^.

On a rich and beautiful prairie, gn^en and red, the wild closer
and the roses, and nccasioiially a plum-tree, iurging the hues, were
lying prostrate, as far as the- <‘ye could reach; hundrf‘ds tliou-
sands of animals of all species, some quietly licUiTig tlieir tired
limbs, and other* extending their necks, witliout risimr, to graze
up>n the soft gras's around them- Tiie siglit was beautilul aboie
ail description, and recalled to mind the engrai ings of the cr, at ion
affixed to the old bibles. 'WoUes and pantlnr.s wtre lying hut a
few paces firom a small flock of antelope'^; butialocs, bcirs, and
horses were mixed together, ei ery one of them incapable of moi mg
from the spot on which th('y had dropped from oxhaustir m and l.it ijruc.

We passed a large jaguar, glaring fiercely at a < alf ten ♦eet lismi
him; on seeing us, he attempt('d to ri c, but, utterly Ijelpless, 1 j»‘
bent his body so as to form a circle, concealing bis b^ad upon his
breast under Ids huge paws, and iiUered a low growl, half menac¬
ing, half plaintiie. Had we ha<l tKuvdcr to waste, we would cer¬
tainly have rid the graminivorous from many (jPtlieir carnivorous
neighbours, but wc ivere now entering a trn<'t of country ceh'brated
for the depredations of th(‘ Texian and liupgles’ tree bands, and
every chargo ot powder thrown away was a chance th(‘ less in cas(‘
of a fight.

Aa by this time our horses were in want of re.st, we took off
their saddles, and the poor things f<>aste(i better t ban they had
done for a long while. As for ns, we had fortunately still a good
supply of the oold calf, for we felt a n-pugnanec to eut the tltroats
of any of the poor broken'-dow'n eroatures before us. (ilo.se to us
there wa$ a fino noble stag, for whieh J immediately took a fancy.
He was so i^poni out that he could, not even move a few inches to
get iftt the grass# and his dried, parched tongue showed plainly how
much he* Bufifergd from the want of water. 1 pulled up two or three
handfuls of clover, which I presented to him, but though he tried
to swallow it* he could not.

vosBtr.m viot/ET- ?91

As ilx'ro ^\as a wat«r-iiolo some twenty yards off, I took tfee
a«ct(jr‘j> frrr cap, and filling it with water, returned to tho stag, .
Wliat an expressive glance! What beautiful eyt^sl X sprinkled at
^ first some drops upon his toiispie, and then, putting the water
und<*r his nos(', he soon draiuwl it up* My compintons became so
mucli inltTest<yl with the sufferings ot the poor animalk, that they
look as many of the young fawns as they rmuld. carrying them to
the edge of the water-hole, that they might regain their strength
and tly away before the wolves could attack Ihein.

(Fpori my jiresenting a second capful of water to the stag, the
grateful aninud lieked my hands, and, after having drunk, tried to
ris'^ to follow me, but its strength fail in", its glances followed me
as I was walking to and fro; they spoke ^olumc&; I could under¬
stand th"ir meaning. I hate to hear of the superiority of man!
Man is ungrateful as a \ iper, while a horse, a dog, and many othei^
oi"^ho “ soulless brutes," will never forget a kindness,

I wonfiert'd wliat had beeomi‘ of our three lawyers, who had wan-
derc<l aw ay w ithout tlieir rides, and had been more than two hours
absent. J w as about to propose a search after them when they ar^
rived, who their Imlves and tomahawks, and their clothes all
smeared with blood. Tliey had gone upon a oruiso against tlie
wolvc'j, and hid killed the*brutcs until they were tired and. had no
more slremdli to use their arms.

The ro.uler, coini'ortably seated in bis elbow-chair, cannot com-
prehetid the li.itred which a prairio traveller nourislu‘S against the
w(»he.s. As soon as w^e found out what those three'champions of
th(‘ w iiderness had bwn about, we resolved to encamp there for the
night, that wv might destroy as many as wo could of tJieso prairio
sharks. Broken down they were, there was no danger attending
the expedition, and, tightening on our belts, and scouring our pis¬
tols, in case oi au^ttack from a recovering panther, wo started
upon our butcherHf expedition. On our way wo met with some
fiorcc-looking jaguars, which wo did not think prudent to attack,
so we let thorn alone, and soon found occupation onougli for Our
Icnives and tomahawk.s among a olose-p^acked herd of wolves.

JIow many of these detested brutes we killed I cannot say, but
we did not leave off until our hands had beoom© powerless from
exhaustion, and our tomahawks were so blunted as to be rendered
of no use. Whon we left tho scene of massaerev we had to pMS
over a pool of blood anklo-decp, and such was the howling of those
who were not quite dead, that the deer and elk were in every diroo-
tion struggling to rise and fly.* Wo had been employed more than
four hours in our work of destruction, when we returned to thO
camp, tired and hungry. Koche had picked up a bear cub,

* Tho prairie wolf i« a very different animal from the common wolf, as wfll
be understood by the reader when I Sive a description of the animals found tn
Odifornia and Texas,

TUAVKLS AND ADVENTUUKS Or

192

the doctor skinned and cooked for us wliile wo wore taking our
round to see bow our proteges were going on. All those lliat had
been brought up to the wator-tiole were so far recovered that they
were grazing about, and bounded away as soon as we attempted to
near them. My stag was grazing also, but he allowed me to caress
him, just as if we had been old friends, and he never left the place
until the next moruhig, when we ourselves stai’ted.

The doctor called us for our evening meal, to u hieh we did ho¬
nour, for, in addition to his wonderful culinary talents, ho knew
some plants, common in the prairies, which can impart even to a
bear’s chop a most savoury and aromatic flavour. He u^as in higfi
glee, as we praised his skill, and so excited did he boi'oiue, that ho
gave up his proposal of the " Gold, Emerald, Topaz, Sapphire, and
Amethyst Association, in ten tliousaiid shares,” and vowed he would
cast away liis lancet and turn eook in the service of some hou rwa^f,
or go to feed the padres of a Mexican convent. He boasted that he
could cook the toughest old woman, so as to make the lK‘,sh appear
a.s white, .soft, find sweet as that of a spring chicken; but, up(m my
propo.siog to send liim, as a cordon hleu, to the Cayugas, in West
Tcx,j3us, or among the Club Indians, of the Colorado of the West, he
changed his mind again, and formed new' plans for the r(*goneration
of the natives of America.

After our supper, we rode our horses to the lake, to watc'r and
bathe them, whicli duty being performed, we sought that repose
w'hich we were doomed not to enjoy; for we liad scarcely shut our
eyes when a tremendous shower fell upon us, and in a lew minutes
wo were drenched to the skin. The reader may roeolleet that, ex¬
cepting Gabriel, we had all of us left our blankets on the P]K>t wherci
we had at first descried the prairie was in flames, so that we were
now shivering with cold, and, what was worse, the violence of the
rain ivas such that we could not keep our fire a^ e. It wfis an ugly
night., to be sure; but the cool shower sa^^ed the panting ami thirsty
animals, for whose suflerings we had felt so much. All night, we
heard the deer and antelopes trotting and scampering towards the
lake; twice or thrice the distant roars of the panthers showed that
these terrible animals were quitting onr neighbourhood, and the
fierce growling of the contending wolves told us plainly that, if l.hey
were net strong enough to run, they could at lea.st crawl and prey
upon their own dead. It has been asserted that wolves do not prey
upon their own species, but it is a mistake, for I have often seen
tlnmi attackh^, tearing, and eating each other.

The warm rays of the morning snu.at last dispersed the gloom
and clouds of night; doer, elks, and antelopes were all. gone, except
my own stag, to which I gave a handful of salt, as I had some in
my sad^e-bags,. Some few mustangs and buffaloes were grazing,
but the larger portion, extending a.s far as the eye could reach, were
prostrate on the grass. As to the wolves, either from the

WONSIEUa VIOIiET.

lf)3

rali'mp Hn y liad xindorgoms or from their being glutted with
1h>' blood and il.vdi of llieir companion?, they ex'emocl stiffer than
c\ ir. Wc waicivii our liorsx rcpicnlshod our flasks, and, after a
» |jx-ar(y jn(‘:il uijou the cold flesh of th(' bear, we resumed our jour¬
ney to ivann ourselves by uxcrcisx* and dry our clothes, for we were
wet to the skin and bxmumbed with rold.

TIr' rt'iul r may bx; surprised at these wild animals being in the
state of utter exhaustion wliicli I have described; but he must be
reniindx'd that, in all probability, this prairie fire had driven them
befon* it for Imndrods 4»f miles, aufi that at a speed unusual to them,
and which notlilng hut a panic* could have imoduoed. I think it
v«*iy ])robable that the fire ran over an extent of five hundred miles
and my rx*ason for so estimating it is the exhausted state of the
carnivorous animals. ,

Mi panther can pass ot it two hundred miles or more at full speed
witliout gj’i'ut exhaustion; so would a jaguar, or indeed an elk.

I do jR't mean to say that all tlie animals, as the buffaloes,
mustangs, Geer, &e. had riui this distance; of course, as the fire
rolled on, fh<; animals were gradually collected, till they had
formed the astounding mass which I liave described, and thousands
had ]irobably airx'ady perished, long before tho fire had reached the
Itrairie wlart* wx* were eneampi'xl; still I have at other limes wit-
nx'ssed the i xf r.iordinfiry xixortions which animals am capable of
when undiT tlie infliu'iu x' of feai*. At one estamixalxs I knew somx?
n\Mi, ith their yokes oxi their necks, to accomplish sixty miles in
four hx>nrs.

On anothc’’ oeeasixm, on the xvastern shores of the Vermilion Sea,
1 witnx'ssed an estamixexh', jin.l rx'turning twelve days afterwards, 1
found the animals still lying in every direction on the prairie,
although much recovxTod from their fatigue. On this last occasion,
tin* jxrairix' haxl be||i biirul for thvx'x' hundred miles, from east to
wx'st, anxi there is no doubt but that Iho animals had estampedoed
Ihx' \vhx>lc distance at the utmost x)f their speed.

Our horse?, having quite recovered from their past fatigue, wo
siitrtx'd at a brisk canter, under the beams of a genial sun, and soon
felt the warm blood stirring in our veins. 'NVe had proceeded about
six or st'ven miles, skirtmg tho edge of a mass of buffaloes reclining
on tljx* prairie, whxm we witnessed a sexme which filled us with pity.
Ih>urtx‘xm hungry wolves, rxjeling and staggering with weakness,
Vero attacl'dng a sidendixl black stallion, which was so exhausted,
that he covild not get upon his legs. His neok and sides were
xilroad}' covered with woxmds, and his agony was terrible. . Now,
the horsx* is too nxjble an animal not to find a jTOtector in man
Jigainst such bloodthirsty foes; so we dismounted and despatched
the whole of his assailants; but as the poor stallion was wounded
hx’vond all cure, sind would indubitably liave fallen a prey to another
pa-ck of his prairie foes, we aNo despatched him with a slR>t of a
’ N

194

tBATi;LS And ADVLXTuiirs or

rifle. It was an act of humanity, but still the destruction of this
noble animal in tlu* wilderness threw a gloom over our sjurits.
The doctor per<u'iviiig this, tliought it advisable to cnlivtui us with
the following- storj-;—

‘'All the N('vv York amat(‘urs of oysters know well llio most
jovial tavtirn-kee]H'r in tlie world, old Slick Hradhy, the owner of
the ‘ Franklin,* in Pearl-strwl. Wtion you go (o Acw Y(jrk, mind
to rail upon him, and if yon have any rc'lish lor a cool sangaree, a
mint julep, or a savoury oyster-soup, none can make it Ix'ttcr than
Slick Bradley. Besides, his bar is .snug, his little busy wile neat
and polite, and if .you axe ineliiied to a spree, his private rooms tip-
stairs are comlortahle as eaU be.

Old Slick is good-humoured and always laughing; proud of his
cellar, of his housi*, of his wife, and, above all, proud <tf the sigti-
p^DSt hanging belorc^ his door; that is to say, a .yellow head of
Franklin,'painted by some bilious e.hap, who looked in tlie glas.s i'jr
a model.

“Now Slick has kept house for more than forty years, and though
he has made up a prott.v round sum, he don’t wish to leave ort the
business. No! till the day of his death, he will remain in his bar,
smokin^hisHavanuas, and mechanically ])laying wit Uthetw oi)Oeket-
booka in his deep wai.stcoul pocket.s—one for the ten-dollar notes
and a^ve, the other for the lives and under. Slick Bradley is tiuf
most iiidependcnt man in the world; he joke.s familiarly ttith his
customcr.s, and besides their bill of fare, he knows how to get more
of their money by betting, for betting is the great passion ot Slick;
he will bet anything uyion evepythiug; eontradict him in what he
says, and down come the two pocket-books under your nose. ‘ I
know better,' he will sa}-, ‘ don’t 1 ? What will you bet—five, ten,
fifty, humired? Tush! you dare noi hot, you know' you are
wrrongi' and w-ith an air of supei'KiViV and self-sat is faction, ho
will take long .strides oyer the w-ei!-W'aHicd floor, repetiting, ‘ I know
better.'

“Slick u.sed once to boast that Ik* had nerc'r lo.st a bet; but .since
a little incident which made all New York ‘d him, he con¬

fesses that he did once meet with his match, Ibi^hough he i*ertainl.v
won the bet, ho had paid the stakes fifty times ovtsr. Now, as 1
heard the cu’carastance from the jolly lanclilord liunself, here it goes,
just as I had it, neitlier more nor less.

“Oneday, tw'o smart .young fellows entiired the ‘Franklin;' they
alighted from a cab, and were dressed in the tip-top of fashioii.
As they were new customers, the landlord was all smiles and cour-
tes^f conducted them into saloon No. 1, and making it up in his
mind tbs-t his guests could be nothing Ic.ss than Wall Strei-t super-
fines, hfe resolved tliat they shmild not cotuplain of Ids fart*.

splendid dinner wa.s .served to with sundry Jiottles oF

old wnesTand choice Havannas, and the w-orth.y host was reckoning
in hi.s mind all the itenrs he could decently iiitroduo(i in the bill,
when ding, ding, went the boll, and awap- lie goes up stairs, ca]x*r-
ing, jumping, smiling, and liolding his two Itiands before hi.s bow-
window in iront-

‘“Eh, Old Slick,’ said one of the sparks, ‘capital dinner, by
Jore; good wine, fine cigars; plenty of customers, eh!' ' ^

« ™ ffh>ry, proud and happy.

Nothing better in life than a good dinner,' resumed the spark

MONSIKlJtt VIOLET,

19i»

Ko. ]; ‘some eat only to live—they are fools; I live only to eaf,
Ihot is the true ]>hi]osO]>hy. Come, old chap, let ii,s have your bill,
and mind, make it out as lor old eu.sl outers, for wc intend to return
often; don't v\c'?'

“ Til is last part of the sentt'nce was addressed to spark No, 2,
who, with his let,^8 comfortably ov<‘r the eoruor of the table, W'as
liickimr his teeth with his lork.

“ ‘ J shall, by jiiiivo!’ slowly drawled out No, 2, ‘ dine well here!
d—d eomtortaiilc; nothing tvanted but the oliampagne.'

“‘Jjord, Lord! gentlemen,’ e.vclaimi'd Slick, ‘why did you not
.say .KO? \Vliy 1 have the lw\st in town.'

i’aith, hiui- youi'’ said No. 1, smacking his lip.s; ‘now, have
YOU tile real genuine stutl ? ^Vhy then bring a bottle, landlord, and
you must join us; bring three glasses; by e, we will di*ink your
health.’

When Sliek returned, he found hi.s customers in high glee, an/I
sot'oiivulsive was tlieir merriment, that they were obliged to hold
ilieir sivl(‘s. Sliek lauglicd too, yet losing no time; in a moment,
he pr('sente<i the irontleineu with the sparkling liquor. They took
thmr glass*''., <lrank his health, and then recommenced their mirth.

“ ‘ And sf) you lost tlie wager?' asked No. 2.

“ • Yes, by'Heaven, I paid the hundred dolhu'S, imd, what wa.s
wor.si', was laugheil at by everybody!’

“ Sliek was s;ully puzzled; 'tlu' young men had been laughing,
they wen' now talking of a. bet, and he knew nothing of it. He was
mightily inquisitive; and knowing, by cxpiTience, tliat wine opens
till* heart uiul imloosi's the tmigui', lie made an attemjit to a.scertaiii
the cause ol th(' merriment.

“ ‘ I bog your partloii, gentlemen, if F make too bold; lint please,
what wa.s the sut\iect of the wager the recollection of which puts
you ill such good humour?’

“ ‘ J’ll tell you,’ exclaimed No. 1, ‘and you will see what a fool I
liaAC luade of myself. You must know" that it is impossible to
tollow tlic pendulum of tbe clock vvitli the band, and to repeat
Here she goes—tluTO sho goes, just as it swings to and tro, that
is, when jieopU.' aronlalking all round you, as it puts you out. One
day I was wuth a st-t of jolly ft'llows in a dining-room, with a clock
.pist like this in your room; the conversation fell upon the difficulty
ol going on Hero she goes, and There .she goes, for half-an-
bour, without making a mistake. Well, 1 thought it was the
erisic.st thing in t.Jie world to do it: and, upon my saying .so, I was
ih'lied to do it: the eonsequeneo was a bet of a lumdred dollars,
and, liaving agrec*d that tJiey could talk to me as mueb as they
pleased, but not touch me, i po.sted myself before the clock and
U'ciit on—Here she goes—tliei’e she goes, wliile some of m^com-
jciiiions began singing, sona* shouting, and some laughing. yWcll,
alter three minutes, I felt tliat the task was much more difficult
than 1 had expected; but yet I went on, till I heard somebody
saying— jAs 1 am alive, tluTC is Miss Reynolds walking arm in
arm with that lucky dog, Jenkins! Now you must know, landlord,
that Miss fleynolds was my swoid.heart, and Jenkins my greatest
enemy, so 1 ruslied to the window to seo if it was true, and at that
moment a roar of laughter announced to me that I had lost the
bet.’

“ Now Slick Bradley, as I have .said, was verv fond of betting.
Moreover, he prhled Iximsell* not a little upon hi.s .self-command,

I9f>

XaAVIlT-S AK1> ADVENTUBIIS OV

as ho had jiot any mistross ti> bo j«‘al()us of, as soon as llv'
gentleman had finished his story, he came at once to tlie point.

“‘Well,’ said he, *yon lost the wager, hnt it don’t, signily. I
think myself, as you dUl, that it is the easiest thing in th<' world.
1 am sure 1 ccmld do it for half-an-hoiir, ay, and an hour too.’

“ The gentlemen laughed, and .said they knew hetl or, ami tiu' now
excited ho.st propo.sed, if tlu' Hherty did not olfend them, to niahe
any het that he eonld do it for half-,'in-hour. At first tlnn ohjoeted,
under the plea that they would not like to w in Ins money, as tin y
wore certain ho had no ehanco, but, upon his. insisting, tin y con-
.sente.d to het twenty dollars; and Slick, putlin.g himself ta(o to
face with Ins groat grandfather’s clock, hegiui following the peudu-
luin with his hand, repeating—Here she goes, there she goes.

“The two gontU'inen discolored many wonderful things tlmmgh
the A\ indow: first a sailor had innrdereil a woman, next the .stage
had ju.st capsized, and afterwards they ivere .sure that tht' .shop
next door was on Uve. Slick winked and smiled conijdacenVry,
without leaving hi.s position. Uo was too old a fox to ho taken i>y
such childish tricks. All at once, No. 2 observed to No. 1, that the
bet w ould not keep good, as the stakes had not boon laid down, and
both addr(vs.sed tbe liost at the same time. ‘Not cunning enough
for me,* thought Slick, and poking his hift hand hito the right
pocket of his waistcoat, he t<>ok out hi.s jiockot-book containing
the larger notes, and handed it to his customers.

“ ‘Nov/,’ exclaimed Ao. 2 to hi.s companion, ‘1 am sure ,\ou will
lose the wager; the follow is imperturbablo;; notldng can nunc
him.’

“ * tVait a hit; I’ll soon make him leave off,* whispered tlu' other,
loud enough for Slick lo hear him.

“ ‘ Landlord,’<'on1iiuie(l he, ‘w(‘ trust to your honour to go on
for half-aii-hoiir; >vc will ni.w’ have a talk wlthhoimy Mrs. .Slici..’
Saying this, thei' quitted the room without closing the door.

Slick was not jealoiLs. Not hco hesidcs, the bar was full of
people; it w'as all a trick of the m-ms, who were behind llv' do(*r
ivatchingliim. After all they wen hnt novices, and he ivfUil.i win
tlicir money, he <mly regretted that the hot had not been hcavii'r.

“Tw'cfnty minutes had fairly passed, w licn Slk’k’s own li<l,l«‘ hoy
entered the room. ‘Pa,’ said he, ‘there is a genunan what want.s
you below in the bar.’

“ ‘ Another triek,’ thought the landlord; ‘ they slum't liave me,
though—Hero she.goes—^tlierc she goes.’ Aiwlasthe hoy r.juiroached
near to him to repeat his wrand, Slick gave him a kick, ‘(ht
3 .way—Here she goes—there slic goes.’

“The boy w^cut awaj' cr^dng, and soon returned with Mr,s.
Slick, who ervd, in an angrv tone, ‘ Now don’t inako a fool of
yourjfRf; the gentleman you .sold the town-lot to is below with tim
money.’

“ ‘ They shan’t Imvc me thougfi,’ said Slick to himself. And to
- all the bivectivc.s and reproaches of Mrs. Slick he answered onlv
with—Here sl^c goes—there she goc.s. At last the long m^edle
marked the half hour, and the landlord, liaving won tlvo wager,
turned round. ^

**’ ‘ Where are they?' said he to his wife.

“ ‘They!—who do you moan?' answered she.

“ ‘ Tho two gentlemen, to he sure.’

“ ‘Why, they have been gone these last twenty minutes.’

MUWSiliitJH MOliET.

1!)7

'-Slick w.is lhiin'Jcrhtru:;k; ‘and tho pockol-book?’ !io uttered,
con rnlsh(‘ly.

“ IIks wile lookeci ut him wii,h inoffahlo contempt.

• “ y^w*’ money, did you?’

“ Siif‘K iSoon dlscovei'ed that h(' u as minus five hundred dollars,
Is '^ides tlie pnee «>t‘tlie tuc) dinners. Since that time he never bets
blit cash down, and in the j)reseneo of witnesses."

CIIA.PTEU XXX.

Wf: contJinicd our route for a few days, after wo liad loft the
Juilfcihx's, and Iiad uoav turned our Ijorses’ heads due east. Having
left bobhid the localities frequented by the wild herds, we soon
b'-eamc exposed to tht' cravings of hun:;er. TSow and then we would
f.dl in with a ])rairie Inui, a turkey, or a few rattlesnakes, but thfi
dc^r and aiii eloper, were so shy that, though we could see thoxn
; porting at <• di'^tanoe, -wo could never come wdthin a mile of them.

'i'lu; ground wa.s level, and the grass, although short, was excellent
pari ore, and richly enamelled witli a variety of ilowers. It was a
l»eantiful country. \V^e had fine weather during the day, but the
iiiglits c.erc (‘xe'M'dingly cold, and the dew heavy. Having lost our
l'!.inlo*ls, we passed miserable nights. There was no fuel wdth
udiicli we <'onld light onr fire; even the dimg of animals was so
scarce, Hint we could not, during seven dnys, afibrd to cook our
seanly meal; more than tliriec, and the four last groiise that wc
i.illcd, were ('aten raw.

AIkuiI the middle of the eighth day, a dark line w'as seen rising
iibovi' tlie hori/.oii, fur in the south-east, and extending as far as tho
(ye could reach. AV^e knewv it was a i'orest, and that when wm
gained it we were certain of having jdanty to eat; but it was very
far oil, at least lAventy miliis, and we were inueb exhausted. In the
ca lling we ware almost driven to desperation by hunger, and we
Ji)und that tho app7'oaeh to tho forest would prove long and difficult,
as it wnus .skirted by a bed of thick briars and prickly pears, which
'm breadth, could not be k'ss than thrw leagues, and that a passage
must be fiu’ced through this almost impassable bairior. The forest
\vas undoubtedly the commencement of that oxiendod line of noble
timber whicli encircles, as a kind of natural baitier, the States of
Louisiana, Ai’kansas, ami Missouri. By rcaclung it, woishould
.soon leave jirivation and fatigue behind us, whereas, on the contrary,
travelling to the north, would have added to our .sufferings, as the
same lc^ el and untenanted prairie extendt^d to tlu* very shores of
the lied llivcr. AVe consequently detoi‘raiu(‘d to force our way
Ihrough the thorns and briars, even if we were obliged to cut a
road w ith our kniv es and tomahawk.s. AVe journeyed on till sunset,
wh'ui W’<‘ came l,o a det'p dry gull 3 ^ on tlio very edge of the prickly
barrier, and there we encamped for tho night. To go farther

TttAVEliS ANP AOVr.NTrUCfi <H’

19B

w ithout something to eat w as impo'^sible. The w iM and Iiaffgard
looks of my oompaipons, their sunken eyes, and sallow, tleshless
faces, too plainly showed that some .subsistence must bn .sp(M*dily
provided more nutritious than the unrip'' and strongly acidulated
fruit presented te us. We drew Jots, and the par.son’s horse was
doomed; in a few' minutes hi.s hide Avas off, aud a part of the flesh
distributed.

The meat of a young mtjstang is excellent, hut that i*f an old
broken-doAni horse is quite another affair. It was as tougli as
Tndia-rnhher, aud tlie murt* a piece of it was masticated, th(* larger
it became in the nwaith. man ne\ or knows Avhat he can eat until
driven to desperation by a week’s starvhig, and the jolly parson,
who hod pledged himself never to eat ev(>n calf’s meat, fiercely
attacked the leathery remains of Ills faithful ambler.

The nevt morning wo directed our stop.s in a south coursi', {yyd
crossing the gully, aa e enton'd in AAhat appeared to i)e a passage, or
a bear’.s path, through t!io lu-iekly pears; biit aftei' (ravelling some
six or eight miles, Ave found our i'lirthor progress cut off by a deep
and precipitous chasm, lined with hny»assahle Iwiar.N. To n^turn
was onr only alternative, and at norm w'c again found ourselve.s
near to the point from whence we had .started in the morning.

A consultation Avas now' held as to our future (‘ourse. The la wyers
and Roche proj)Osed to go farther south, and make anotluw attempt,
but recollecting that, on th'- morning of the preceding day, avo had
passed a large, though shallow, sandy stream, (lahriel and
I thought it more, advi.salih* to ridiirn to it. This stn am was
evidently one of the trihutanss of the Ib-d River, and va as rumdiig
in |in easterly direction, and we A\’cre perstiadod that it must flow
through the chasm, and enter int(> tlie forest.

Our proposal vi-as .agrwd to, an<l without any jnore los.s of time,
each of us taking Avith him a pieci' of horse-flesh, wo retraced our
steps. The parson Avas on foot, and although J pnqiosed many
times that Avc should ride alternately, he always refused, preferring
now to travel on foot, as ho wa.s hi>arti]y tired of riding. Indeed,
I never saw a better walker ifi my life; tlx* man bad idently
mistaken his prolession, for lie Avould have gained more niomy witii
his leg.s as an Indian runne r, or a scout, than ho had any cliance of
obtaining in the one to wdiich ?u‘ belongiid, and for whiish he was
most upqualified.

The next day, at noon, w'e encamped on the sti-eam, and though
with little hope of success, I throw' in my fishing-line, baiting my
hook with horse-flies and gras.shoppers. My liooks had scarcely
sunk in the water when the bait was taken, and, to my astonish-
mtmt and delight, I soon dragged out of the wmter two very large
trout. I shouted to ray companions, who were soon round me, and
we resolved to pass the night there, as we considered that a good
meal or two would enable us so much better to continue our fa-

MONSIEUH VIor.T:T-

19»

tiguiiig journey. A above us was also tliscovepofl a large

quantity of flrifl, timber, left dry upon tbo sand, and in a short time
every one of us were ;u-tively employed in preparirig for a jovial
meal, (iabriel, being tlm b(‘st, marksman, started for game, and I
(‘ontinned fishin j,, to the great dedight of tl^ doctor and the parson,
the first one taking under his can; the cooking department, and the
last scuui'ing the prairie to catch grasshoppers and horse-tlics. In
less tlmn three hours | had twenty large trout, and a dozen cat-fish,
ami (iahriel riturned with two (lanadiau gei'se. Invigorated by
an abundant meal and a warm tire, ■\ve soon ri'gained our spirits,
and that, night Ave slept sound, and made up for our former watching
and .shivc'ring,

t The no.xi morning, after breakfast, we fillml our saddle-bags with
the remainder of our provisions, and followed the stream for ten
n^Ies, witli water to our liorses’ shoulders, as both sides of ^he
river wtre covered with briers- The parson had been obliged to
ride behind one of the lawyers, who liad a strong-built, powerful
horse; and great wjis onr merriment when one of our steed.s stum¬
bled into a hole and brought down his master with him. For nine
miles more* we <*ontimual wading down the river, till at last the
pricklj'- pears and briers receding from the banks, allowed us once
niori' to regain the dry ground; but we had not travelled an hour
upon thi' bank, when our road was intercepted by a broken range
of hills.

Aftm* incredible fatigue to both horses and men, for we were
obliged to dismount and carry our arms and saddle-bags, tile
asei'ut was finally aehii'ved- \Vhon w(> .arrived at the summit we
kiTind Ix'low us a p(‘aeeful and romantic valley, through the centre
ol‘ which the river winded its way, and was fed by innumerable
brooks, bieh joined it in every direction. Their immediate bor-
dei s wen' fi'inged with small trees, bushes of the deepest green,
wiiile the banks of the river were skirted with a narrow belt of
largiT and more luxuriant growdh.

This valUiy was eneircled by the range of hills wo had ascended,
as far as to the bolt of the forest. AVc led our horses down the
declivity, .and in less than an hour found ourselves safe at the bot¬
tom. A brisk ride of three or four miles through the valley brought
us to the edge of the forest, where we encamped near a small
creek, and alter another good night's rest, we pushed on. through
a mas.s of the noblest maple and pine trees I had ever seen. Now
game abotmded; turkeys, hears, and deer, were seen almost every
minute, ami, as w'c advanced, the traces of mules and jackasses
wore plainly visible. A little further on tht) foot prints of men
were also discovered, and from their appearance they were but a
few hours' old. This sight made us forget our fatigues, and we
hurried on, with fond anticipations of finding a speedy termination
to all our sufferings.

TKAVE1.B AN1> ADVENTUliES UE

200 ‘

I/ftte in the afternoon, I killotl a very fat buck, and although w('
were anxious to follow the tracks, to ascertain what description of
travellers were l>eforc us, our horses A> ere so tired, and our ap^a*-
tites so sharpened, that upon reflection, wc thought it desirable to
remain where wo were. 'ft. took this 0 ]>portunity of making myself
a pair of mocassins with the now useless saddle-bags of the })ar-
son.

That evening wo were in high glee, thinking that wo had arrivetl
at one of the recent settlements of w<'.storn emigration, for, as I
have obsorvwl, we had seen tracks of jackasses, and these ani¬
mals are never employed upon any distant journey- Wo fully ex¬
pected the next morning to tind some log houses, within ti*ii or
fifteen miles, whore avo should lx; able to procure anfdlu'r horse for**
tlie parson, and some more ammunition, as we had scarcity half a
pound of balls left botween us. .Tlie lawyer enjoyed, by auticiifA-
lion, tbe happiness of once more filling bis liaU'-gallon flask, and
the doctor promised to give us dishes of his oami invention, ns
soon as he could meet with a frying-pan. In lim*, so exuberant
were our spirits, that it was late before! wo lui<l down to sleep.

4.t about two o’clock in the morning, feeling a pressure upon my
breast, I opened my eyes, and saw' Oabriel with a finger u]»on his
lips, enjoining mo to silence. H(‘ then informed me, in a ^v}iispt‘r,
that a numerous party of thieves were in our neighbourhood, and
that they had alreatly disetovered our horsexs. fl'aking witli us only
Ogr knives and tomahawks, we crawled silently till wc came to a
small opening in the forest, w^hen av<‘ saw some twenty fidlows
encamped, Avithoiit any lighter fire, )u I; all armed to tlu! locth.
Three or four of them appeared animated in tlicir conversation,
and, being favoured by the darkness, w'e approached n<*arcr, till
we were able to hear every word.

“All sleeping sound," said of them, “but looking mighty
wretched; not a cent among them, I am sut’c; and if I can judge
by their clothing, tliree of them are hnlf-breids."

“And the horses ?” said another voic.c.

“■Why, as to them, they havo only seven,” replied the first voiee,
“and they arc broken down and tired, although fine animals. They
wonld sell well after a three weeks’ grazing.”

“Take them away, tlien; are they tied?”

“Only two.”

“Break the ha^te^s then, and start them full .speed, as if they
were frightened^ it will not awaken their suspicion.”

“Why not settle the matter with them all at once? We would get
their saddles.” )

“Fool! mppe/^e they arc a vanguard of General Rusk’s armj',
and one of them should escape? No; to-morrow at sunrise they
wjUl run upon Uie trdoks of their horsevs, ami leave thc'r saddles
kUd saddle-bags behind; throe men shall remain here, to secure

MONSIEUn VlOl^KT.

mi

ilie plunder, and when the ducks (travellers) are fairly entangled
in the forest, being on foot, wo can do what wo please.”

(hhors then joined the conversation, and Gabriel and I returned
• {o our friends as silently as wo hiad left them. Ifalf an hour after¬
wards, wo heard the galloping of our horses in a southerly direc¬
tion, and Gabriid going once more to reconnoitre, p<*rceived the
hand taking another course, towards the cast, Ic'aving, as they had
proposetl, throe of their men behind them. For a few minutes he
heard these men canvassing as to the best means of carrying the
saddles, and lia\'ing drank pretty freely from a largo stone jug,
lliey wrapp<Hl them.s<*lves in their blankets, and crawled into a sort
of burrow, which liad ]irobably been dug out by the brigands, as a
ceehelto for tiseir provicums and the boot}'which they could not
fornonieiitiy carry. »

4Jy tlic couMTsutionof the throe fellows, Gabriel conjectured that
the band had gone to a place of nmde/vous, on the bank of some
river, and that tic ]>arty who had carried away our horses was to
proceed only six miles south, to a stream where the track of the
lioi'.ses would be effaced and lost in case of our pursuit. As soon
as tliey considered that w’o were far enough from our encampment,
they were to return by another road, and rejoin the three men left
behind. Gabriel eoujected that only four men had gone away with
the hors<>s. After a Hi tie consultation, wo awoke our comrades,
and explaining to them how matters stood, we determined upon a
counterplot.

Jt w'as at first proposed to shoot the throe scoundrels left for our
saddle-bags, hut reflecting tliat they were better acquainted than
we were with the locality, and that the report of one of their
iir(‘-am(is would excite the suspicion of those who had charge of
our horses, wo determined upon another lino of conduct. Before
daylight, I tof)k iny bow and :vrr(^’s, and succeeded in reaching a
secure po.sition, a few yards from the burrow where the thieves
were concealed. Gabriel did the same, in a hush, half way between
the burrow' and our encampment. In the meantime, Roche, with the
five Americans, played their part admirably—walking neai^to the
burrow', swearing that our horses had been frightened by some
varmint and escaped, and started upon the tracks, with as much
noise as they could make; to deceive the robbers the more, they
left their rifles behind them.

As soon as they were gone, the thieves issued from their places
of concealment; one armed himself with his rifle, and 4'went,” as he
said, “to see if the coast was clear.” Ho soon returned W'ith ttfo
of our rifle.s and a blazing piece of wood, and the worthies began
laughing together at the success of their “inise.” They lighted a
lire, took another dram, and while one bu.sied himself wdf^ prepar¬
ing cofl’ee, the other two startled, with no other weapons hut their
knives, to fetch the saddle-bags and saddles.

202 TJtlAVELS AND ADVENTHHEfl OF

Thej’ had not been gone five minutes, when I perceived an enor¬
mous rattlesnake, ready to spring, at not half a yard from me.
Since my snake adventure among t,ho Com uichos, I had imhil>ed
the greatest dread of that animal, and my alarm was so great, that
I rushed outoFmyoonecahnent, and, at a single bound, found myself
ten yards from the tellow, who was quietly blowing his fin' and
Stirring his coffee. He rose immt'diately, made two steps back¬
wards, and, quite unnerv ed by so sudden an aj>parition, he ex¬
tended his hand towards a tree, against which tlu' rifles had been
placed.

That movement decided his fate, Aw not clioosing to be shot at,
nor to close with a fellow' so pow'crful that lie could have eq,sily
crushed my head betw'oen his thumb and finger, I drew at him.
IJJiough rapid, my aim w as certain, and lie foil doa<l, w'ithout utter¬
ing a single word, the arrow having penetrated his heart. I tl^on
crawled to Gabriel, to whom I explained the matter, and left him
to take ray station near the two ri'inaining brigands, t found them
busy searching the saddle-bags and putting aside what thej’ wislied
to secrete for their own use.

After they had been thus employed for half an lionr, oni' of them
put three saddles upon his head, and, thus loaded, returned to the
burrow, desiring his companion to come along, and drink his
coffee w'hile it was hot. Some* five minufes afterwairds, the noise of
a heavy fall w'as heard (it wils that of the thief who had just left,
w'ho was killed by the tomahawk of Gabriel), and the remaining
robber, loading himself with the sadille bags, prepared to follow,
swearing aloud against his companion “w'ho could not sec before
his eyes, and would break the ponim- ls of the saddles.”

I had just drawn my bow', and was taking my aim, when Gabriel,
passing me, made a signal to forbear, and rushing upon the thief,
ho kicked him in the back, jusL as he w'as balancing the saddles
upon his head. The thief fell d^i, and attempted to struggle, but
the prodigious muscular sti*engthof Gabriel was too much for him:
in a moment he laid lialf-strangled and motionless. We bound him
flrmly'^and and foot, and carriiid liim to his burrow; we laid the
two bodies by his side, stowed our luggage in the burrow, and having
destroyed all traces of the struggle, we prepared for the reception
of tho horse-thieves.

Chance befriended us. While we were drinking the coffee thus
left as a prize to the conquerors, we heard at a distance the tram¬
pling of hor|^s. I seized one of the rifles, and Gabriel, after a
moment of intense listening, prepared his Lasso, and glided behind
the bushes. It waft not long before I perceived my own horse, who
having undoubtedly thrown bis rider, was galloping back to the
esamp. He was closely pursued by one of tho rascals, mounted upon
Gabriel’s horsey and calling out to the three robbers, “ Stop him;
Russy, Carlton.~stop him!'' At that moment, Gabriel’s lasso fell

MONSiEua vroKET. 203

upon his shoulders, and he fell off the horse as dead as if struck by
lis;htning: his neek was broken.

fl.'iving gained our horses, we .saddled them, and took our rifles,

‘ not doubting but that we would easily eapture the. remaining ras¬
cals, as till' .speed of our two steed.s was very superior to that of tho
otlier.s. After half-an-hour’.s hard riding, wc; fell in with Roche and
our cornp inions, who had been equally fortunate. It appeared that
tlie fellow who lifid been riding my hor.se had reeeived a severe fall
.ngainst a tree ; and wiiile one of hi,s companions started in chase of
the animal, who had galloped off, the two other.s tied their horses
to th(‘ trees, and wtmt to his a,s.si.stanee. >VT:mn thus occupied, they
were surprised, ajid bound hand and foot by Roehe and his party.

We brought back onr prisoners, and when wo arrived at the bur¬
row w(' found that, far from having lo.st anything by the robbers,
h;(,(l, on tlie contrary, obtained articles which we wanted. One
of the lawyei’s found in the stone .jug enough of whisky to fill his
flask; the parson got another rifle, to replace that which he had
lo.st in the i>rairie, and the pouches and powder-horns of the three
first ro!)bers w(>rt' found well supplied with powder and balls. We
also took ]>o^session of four greeti Mackinau blankets aud a bag of
ground coffee.

We heartily thanked Providence, who had throw'n the rascais in
our way, and after a good meal, we resumed our journey in a
southern direction, each of tlio tlirc.e lawyers leading, by a stout
rope, one of the brigands, who were gagged, and their hands firml}'
hound behind their hacks. During the whole day, the parson
amu.scd himself with prea(;hing lionest}' and morality to our pri¬
soners, who soi'ing now that they had not tho least chance to escape,
walked briskly alongside of tJie horses.

Towards evening we encamped in one of those plains, a mile in
ci]*cnmfer(‘nc(', which ar<' so frequently met with in the forests of
the west. W(* had performed a journey of twenty miles, and that,
with the forced ride which our beasts'had performed in the rnorar
ing, had quite tired them out. Besides, having now four men on
foot, we could not proc«'‘ed so fast as before. We lighted a fire, and
fed our prisoners, putting two of them in the centre of our circle,
while the two others, who were much bruised by their falls in the
morning, took their station near the fire, and we covered them with
a blanket. Though we believed we had nothing to fear from our
prisoners, tho two first being bound hand and foot, and the two
last being too weak to move, we nevertheless resolved that a watch
should be kept, and as Gabriel and I had not slept during the night
before, we appointed Roehe to keep tho first watch.

When I awoke I felt chilly, and to my astonishment I perceived
that our fire was dowm. 1 rose and looked immediately for the pri¬
soners. The two that we had put within our drcle were still
snoring heavily, but the otlmrs, whose feet we had not bound on

TltAVELS ASD ADVENTt)UE«S Ol'

21)4

account of their painful hruisrs, were "Otu*. I U)okc(i for the wjitch,
and found that it was one of the lawyers, who Imviu^ drank* too
freely of the whisky, had fallen asleep. The thieves had loft the
blanket; I touched it; I perceived that it was yet Avann, so that 1
knew they could nol have been pone a lonp while.

The day Avas just hreakinp, an<l I awoki' my companions; the
laAvyer Avas much ashamed of himself, and olVered the Immhlest
apolopies, and as a proof of his repentance, he p4>ured or) tlio ground
the remainder of the liquor in his llask. As soon as (Jahricl and
lloche AAaa'c xip, we seai’ched in the grass for the font-prints, tvhieh
we were not long in finding, and Avhich eondneted ns straight to the
place whore avc had left, our imrses loose and gra^ang. TIum, for
the first lime, we pcrcoiA’cd that the horses wliieh were shod, and
which belonged to the three laAAyers, hadh.ad their shoes taken (df,
Avhen in possessitm of the thiev(>s the day behrre.

Bj’’the foot-prints, multiplied in oA-cry direction, it w'as evident
that the fugitives had attempted, tlmiigh in a ain, to seize upon
some of onr horses. FolloAvdng the foot-marks a littk* farther,
brought us to a small sandy creek, Aviiere the trael: was lo.si; and
on the other side, to onr great astonishment, avc suav plahily (at.
Icdst the appearance scorned to im])ly as nnich), tl;at help had Ixum
at hand, and that the thieves had escaped upon a tail Are'-ricau
horse, ambling so lightly, that the fmir shoes of tlx' animal Avert-
comparatively hut feebly luarked on the ground. It seoued, also,
that the left foreleg of the animal bad been at some time hurl, for
the stopping was not rcgAiIar, being sometimes longer, sometimes
shorter, imdnoAv and then dt'v citing tw or three inches from the;
line.

I thought immedi3.1ely that avc had hi'cn diseoA ttred l>y another
roving party of the brigands, and that they had gone to gt‘1 a rcin-
forcoment to mmrpowcr us; but upon a clos<'r e.vamination of the
track, I came at once to the solution of the mystery. 1 remarked
that on the print left by the shoes, the placo.s upon v\hieh the head
of the nails should ha\ e pressed deeper, lA'cre, on t.lie eoutrery, con¬
vex—the shoes were, thorefoi'O, not fixed ]>y nails; and niy suspi¬
cions being aAvakrne«l,I Sf>on sjAied upon a soft sandyjspot, through
■which the track passed, that there was something trailing frmnthcj
left iu'nd foot, and I satisfied myself that this last slight mark was
made by a piece of tAVine. A little afterwards I remarked that on
the softer parts of the ground, and two or three inches behind and
before the hojrsfe-shoe prints, were two circular impressions, Avhieli
I ascertained to be the heel and ihi' toe marks left by a man’s
mocassins.

mystery -was revealed. had never scerehed our i)risou-
ors, one ofAvhoni must have had some of the .shoe.s taken off tin*
horses, whl'-!i shoes, in tlsese distri'ds, are v('ry valuable, as they
cannot bo replaced. Having tried in vain to catch some of our

MON’snaru violet.

205

li(;rs('a, had wa.shc'd on! the* Iraelis m the eref'k, and had fixed
1 he hor,s('-sl.(u's to !hcir (mu left with piece.H of twine; after which,
llu'nisi'lvi's in a line at tlu* i'i*(piir(Ml distance one from the
' other, tijey liad .started olF, both with the same foot, imitating' thus
the paehi;:? ot a. swift horse.

i)lan A\as eiutuini^ ( noii.Th, and ])roved thf.t the idackjtuards
AV'iTe no novices in tiieir profession, but tluy iiad not yot sirfliciently
acijuired that peculiar tact untural to savaa;e life. Had they been
Indians, tlu v Avould have fixt'd small pieces of wood into the holes
of flu* slioe to imitate the nails, and they would then have escaped.
We returned to the eamp to arm ourselves, and th<* lawyers, wLshiug
to r(>c()ver oiu* confich'nee, <!ntreated that they might he permitted
to eliase and reoaptun* fliD, fellows. At noon they returned quite
exhausted, hut they had lK*en successful; the i)risoners were n^w
h>%iud hand and foot, and also ti('d by the waist to a young pino,
whi(‘)i we lelletl for the piirj>ose. Jt was lujcless to travel further
on that (lay, as the lawyers’ horses "were quite blown, and liaving
now plenty of ammunition, some of us went in pursuit of turkeys
and phi'asanis, for a day or two’s jn’ovision. All my cflbrt.s to
obtain in format ion from the prisoners were vain. To my inquiries
as !(} whnt direction lay the .settleiiu-nts, I received no answer.

'J'owards ev(niing, as we ware taking our meal, we W{‘re visited by
a baud of dogs, who, stopping ten yards from us, began to bark
ino.st furiously. Thinking at first they belonged to the band of
robbers, who (.inploy(,*d tbiuu to follow travellers, we hastily seized
our arms and prtqiared for a fight; hut ti-abriol asserting tl\e dogs
were* a ]»arlieular lu’eed behmging to tlu* Chcrokues, Clioelaws,
Cret'Us, and other tribes of half-ei\ilised Jndian.s, esl.iblisliod upon
1 Ih‘ ll('d Jfiv'or, we began shouting and firing oiu’ rilh^s, so as to
guide towards us the Indians, whom wo prcsimied could not h»! far
behind their dogs. We did not W'ait long, for a few minutes after¬
wards a, gallant band ol’ eighty tlherokees dashed tlirough the cover
and reined up their horses before us. All was explained in a
mom(‘nt.

A sysfi'iu of gcni'val de predation liad been carried on, for a long
while with impunity, upon the plantations above the great bend of
the Red River. Tin* jieople of Arkansas accused the Texians, wlio
in their turn, assert(‘d that the parties were Indians. Governor
Vt'll, of the Arkansas, complained to Ross, the highly-talented
cJiief of the Cht rokeos, who answered that the robbers were Ark¬
ansas men and Texians, and as a proof of his assertion, he ordered
a band to scour the coimtr}’^, until they had fiallen in with and
captured the depredators. For the last two days, they had been
following some tracks, till their dogs, having crossed the trail left
by the law’yers and their prisoners, guided the w'arriors to our
(‘neamiiment.s.

We gav<' them all our imisouers, whom we wore very glad to get

god I'UAVEl.S AK0 ADVENTLORES Ol

rid of, and the Indian loader generously ordered one of his men to
give np his horse and saddle to the parson. To this, however, we
would not consent, tinless we [laid for the unlinal; and each of us
subscribing ton dollars, wo presented the money to the man, who
certainly did not loose by the bargain.

The next niorniiig, the leader of the Cherokee jiarty advised mo
to take a southern direction, till wo should arrive at the luuid waters
of the river Sabine, from whence, proceeding either northward or
eastward, we should in a few days reaeh ttie Red River, through the
canebrakes and tlio clearings of the ni‘w sotth'r.s. Before parting,
the Indians made us presents of pipes and tobacco, of which we
were much in want, and after a hoartv breakfast, we resumed our
journey.

* CHAPTER xxxr. f

The Cherokee Indians, a portion of whom we had just met on sudi
friendly terms, are probably destined to act no incoiisitlerabh* part
In the future history of Texas. Within the last few years they
have given a severe lesson to the goverurnents of both Texas and
the United States. The reader is already aw are that, through a
mistaken polity, the government of W'ashington have removed
from several southern states tliose tribes of half-civiliztui Indians
which, indubitably, were tlic most honourable and iinlustrions [>or-
tion of the population of those very states. Tlic Cherokecs, the
‘ Creeks, and the Choctaws, among other.s, were cstahliHlied on tins
northern banks of the Red KiY(‘r, in the territory west of tht*
Arkansas.

The Cherokees, with a populatiun of tw^eiity-four thousand
individuals; the Creeks, with tweTj‘y thousand, and the Choctaws,
with fifteen, as .soon as they reached their now country, appli(*d
themselves to agriculture, and as they possessed wealth, slaves,
and cattle, their cotton plantations soon became the finest west
from the Mississippi; ami latterly all the cotton grown by the
Americans and the Texians, witiiin one hundred miles from the
Indian settlements, lias been brought up to their mills and x>resses,
to be cleaned and put into bales, before it w^as shipp(;d to New
Orleans. Some years before the independence of Texas, a small
numbtir of these Cherokees had settled as planters uimri the Toxuin
territory, where, by their good conduct and superior luansigement
of their fkrms, they had acquired great wealth, and had conciliated
the good will of the waidike tribes of Indians around them, such as
th6 Cushates, the Caddoes, and even the Comanches.

As soon as the Texians declared their indeiiendence, their rulers,
thinking that no better population could exist in the northern dis¬
tricts than that of the Cherokees, invited a few hundred more to
come from the Hed River, and settle among them; and to engage
thiem so to dd, the first session of congress oflered them a grant of

viojLii'r. 207

two ot thrt'O l)midrt?(T thousand acres of land, to be selected by
them in the district tlicy would most prefer. Thus enticed, hun¬
dreds of wealthy Cherokee planters migrated to Texas, witli their
wealth and cattle. Sucli w’as the state of affair.s until the presi¬
dency of l^aniar, a man utterly unequal to the task of ruling over a
new country.

Ihider his government, the Texjun.s, no longer restrained by the
energy and htuiourable feelings of an Austin or a Houston, follow’ed
the bent of tlunr dispositions, and were guilty of acts of barbarism
and cruelty whieli, had they, at the time, been properly represented
to the civilized peO}>le of Europe, would liavo caused them to blot
the name of Texas out of the list of nations.

I liave already r<*liited the massacre of tlic Coraanches in San
Antonio, and the iais<*rable ])LUmtig expedition to Santa
buf tb('S(; two acts iiatl been preceded by one still more disgraceful.

The Cherokces, who liad uiigrated to Texas, were flourishing in
iheir ucw' .settlement, when the bankruptcy of the mercliants in the
United Stute.s was loUf>wed by that of the planters. The conse-^
queuce was, that from Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, and
Arkansas, himdreds of planters smuggled their negroes and other
property into Texas, and as they dar*Hl not locate themselves too
fai’ west, from their dread of the Mexicans and Indians, they
remiuned in the east country, upon the ri^ers of which only, at
lliat time, navigation had been attempted.

These new comers, how ever, had to struggle with many difficul-
tie?.; they had to clear t!ie ground, to build bridges, to dry upmud-
hole.s and sw'ainps; and, moreover, they found that they could nut
enter into competition with the Ch'‘rokees, who having been
establisluMl there for a longer time, and raising abundant crops of
maize, cotton, find tobacco, were enabled to sell their provisions at
one-half the price which the white planter wished to realize.' The
Europeans, of com’se, preferred to settle near the; Cherokees, from
whom they could obtain their Indian corn at tifty cents a bushel,
while the American planters demanded two dollars and sometimes
three. In a short time the Cherokee dislrict became thkkly set¬
tled, possessing good roads, and bridges and ferries upon every
muddy creek; in short, it w'as, in civilization, full a century a-head
of all the other eastern e.stablishments of Texas.

The Texian planters from the United States repnxseuted to the
government that the/ would have no chance of cultivating the
country and Imilding eastern cities, as long us the Cherokees were
allowed to remain; and, moi’eover, they backed Uieir petition with
a clause showing that the minimum price the Cherokee land would
be sold at to new comers from the United States was ten dollars
an acre. This last argument prevailed, and in .spite of the Opposi¬
tion of two or tliree honest men, the greedy legislators attacked
the validity of the ivets made during the fomw presidency; the

208 TRAVELS AK0 ADVENTITHES OF

Cherolceps’ grant was recaUccl, and notioo given to them that
Khoulii forthwith give up tJxdr plantations and ivlii-e from
Texas.

To this order the Cherokccs did not deign to give an answer,
and, aware of tlio eharaoter of the Texians, they newer attempted
to appeal for jiistic*e; b;it, on the contrary, prepanul themsel\t*.s to
defend tlulr property from any invasion. S(‘oing them .so doti rniined,
the Texians’ ai'dour cooled a little, and tlnw' (ilTerod tJio Jndia.ns
twelve cents an acre for their land, which pro])osition was not
attended to; ivnd probably the Cherokoe.s, from the fear which
they inspirc'd, w’onlrl nev<‘r have bet'n molested, had it not been ior
an act of the greatest cowardice on the part of the Texian go¬
vernment, and a most guilty indlfferenco on that of the Unitt'd
States.

*'In Alabama, Tennesso, and Arkansas, labour had fallen so h w,
that tliougands of individuals had abandoned their farms to iK'cotm*
horse thie-v es and negro smugglers. Many among tiunn iiad gone
to sell the produce of their depredations to the Cherokee*:, who not
only did not condescend to deal with them, hut i>imishod them with
rigour, subjecting them to their own code of law.s. These ruflEians
nurtured plans of vengeance which thej-^ dared not tiamisclves
execute, but, knowing the greedy spirit of their eountrynn-n, they
spread the most incredible stories of Cherokee wealth and etunfoi’ts.
The plan succeeded well, for as soon as the altercation betw'cen tin'
Texians and Cherokee Indians was made known to the we.^ilern
states, several bands were immediately formed, wdio, in the expec¬
tation of a rich booty, enteied Texas, and offered the Congress fo
drive away the ('h<'rokoes. A.s .soon a.s this was known, rc'presen-
tailon.s were made by honourable men to the government of the
TJnited fltatf's, hut no notice wa;^ taken, and the western .statis,
probably to got rid at once of the semn of their population, giu{‘
every eneom'agciinent to the oxpodition.

For a few monllis the Cherokoe.s invariably discomfited their
invaders, de.stroying their bands as soon as they w'ore newly
formed, and treating them as common robbers; but, being farmers,
they could not fight and cultivate their ground at the same time,
and they now thought of abandoning so iuho.spitable aland; the
more so as, discovering that the Cherokees WTro more than a
match for them in the field, a system of incendiarism and plunder
was resortff^ 1% which proved more disastrous to the Clierokec.s
than |i^^l^|us open warfare.

The wisely reflected that, as long as the inhabitants

Wstei^ states would entertain the hope of plund(‘r and
they wpuld constantly pour upon them their worthle.ss
il^SJ^ulation. ^ey, therefore, destroyed their farms and their
bridges y and, .oollecthig their horses and cattle, they retreated
upon the Red River among tljoir own people. The t’lK'rokee cam-

MON^IJCDlt VXOl.JS'l'. 20f)

iq a Ionic of much boastinj; among the Texiau'?, ae thcj say
tU'"y I'^ndUd the IndiauK from tlicir country; but. a fact, which
tiny ar.* not anxious to publish, i*-, that for every Cherohoo hillecl,
tuenty Tc\inm bit tlie dust.

Since tiiat period the (’hcrokees, (UiodaviS, and Creeks have
Iiad ^.everal war eotmcils, and I doubt not that they are only
waiting for an opportunity to retaliat(‘, aiil will eventually Sweti)
off the entire eastern population of Texas.

The fact !■', that a democratic form of go\ ermnent is powerless
TV hen tht' nation is .so utterlj- deprau'd. Austin, the father of
Tevian colonization, quitted tlie eouniry in disgust. Houston,
whose military talents and wxdl-known eourage obtained for him
tlie presidency, lias declared Ids intenlion to do the same, and to
retire to the Ihiited States, to follow uji his original profession of
a lawyer. Such is the demoralized state of Texas at the presjent
iffomeiit; w'hat it may hereafter bo is in the w'orab of time.

( IIAPTEK XXXII,

iVi: had now' entered the white settlenunts of tlie Sabine river, and
lound, to our astonishment, that, far from arriving at clvilizatikm,
w e were rc'ceding from it; the farms of the Wakoes and woU-culti-
Tafed fields of the Pawnee-Picts—their numerous cattle and conor
fortahle dw'cllings, were a strong contrast to the miserable twelve-
lev t-squarc inud-and-log cabins vve passed by. Everj-^ farmer w©
m(‘l v\as a perfect picture of wtv tehedness and misery; their
women dirty and eowTcd with rags, which could scarcely conceal
tlu'ir nudity; the cattle lean and starving; and the hor.ses so weak,
that they could scarcely stand upon their li^s.

tVluTv* was the boasted bup-’riority of the Toxians over tho In-
di.in race?—or were thv'se iiidividualb around us of that class of
beings ivho, not daring to reside within the jurisdiction of the law',
were obliged to U*ad a borderer’s lift', exposed to all the horrors of
Indian w'arfare and famine ? t "pon inquiry, W'c discovered that these
frontier men w'ere all, more or less, t'minent members of the Texian
Jlt'public: one being a general, another a colonel; some speakers
of tho House of Eepresentativos; and many of them members of
Congressf judges, and magistrates. Notwithstanding their hij^
ofBeial appointnu'nts, wo did not think it prudent to stop among
tht'm, but pushed on briskly, with our rifles across the pommels Of
our saddles; indeed, from tho covetous eyes which those magis¬
trates and big men occasionally oast upon our horses and saddlo;
bags, we expected at every moment that we should be attack^

A smart ride of two hours brought us to a second settlement,
which contrasted most singularly with the first. Here, all the
house.s were neat and spacious, with fine barns and stables; the

0

ilb t-JlAVJgtfl AND Al>TSNttr]ll9S or

fields were well inclosed, and eo\ t'rtd with a ^yrocn carpet of clover,
u|K)fi which were grazing cattle and horses of a superior brood.

Tl^is siglit of comfort and plenty rostor(‘d our confidonco in civi¬
lisation, which confidence we had totally loat at the fir^t selth ment
we had fallen in with; and porcoix ing, among others, a dwelling
surrounded xxilh giu'dcns arranged with some taste, w^e stopped our
horses and ashed for accommodation for oursel\(‘S and beasts.
Three Hr four smart young boys rushed out, to fake care of our
horses, and a venerable old man invUexl us to honour his hearth.
He was a Mormon, ami informi-d us that hundnsls of farmers l>e-
longing t() that sect Imd established themselves in Hast T<'vas, at a
short distaneo from each other, and that, if wc were going to
travel through the Arkansas, and chosc' to do so, wo could stop
er^y other day at a Alormon farm, until xvo arrived at the southern
borders of the .state of Missouri. ^

Weresohed to avail ourselves of this information, antiei]»ating
that every Mormon dwelling would l>e as clean and (*om tort able as
the one wo wci’o in; but W'e afterwards found out our mistake, for,
during the fiflt‘eu days' journey which we travelled between the
Sa)*ine and a place called Boston, we stoppf d at six ditien nt Mor¬
mon farms, either^tbr night or for noon meals, but, unlike* the first,
they were anything but oomtortahlo or prosperous. One cirenm-
stanoot however, attracted particularly our attention; it wa*-, that,
ricbi or poor, the Mormon planters had sui>erior cattle and horses,
and that they had invariably stored up in their eranaries or barns
the last year’s crop of every thing that w ould ketp. Aftfrwardsl
learned that these fanners wore onlj' c'ipfndiary aaeiits of the
ciders of the Mormons, who, in the c.iie of a westward invasion
beilig decided upon by Joe Smith and iiis people, w uuUl iinmt diately
furnish their army with fresh horse .s and all the provisions neces-
'sary f6r a campaign.

One morning we ra<’t with a Texian constable goin '4 to arrest a
murderer. He asked us what o'clock it was, as he had not a watch,
and told ns that a few minutes’ ride would bring us to Boston, a n ‘w
Teaian city. We searched in vain for any vestiges which I'ould an-
hotmee our being in the vicinity of even a village; at lasf, however,
emerging IVom n sw'amp, through which we had been forcing our
Way for more than an hour, we descried b(‘lwecn the* frees a long
btti|ding»mndeofthero«»li logs of the black pine, andaswo .advanced,
we perceived that the .spice between the log-^ (about six inches) luul
not been fipa up, probably to obtain a more free circulation of
air, ^lii« iniilding, it naked negro informed us, w'as Ambassadors’
liaii, tho great lind only liotel of Tc'xian Boston

Two hundred yfl^ds farther we perceived a multitude of indivi-
duatfi swarming around another erection of the same description,
but without a rdOf, and I spurred on my horse, believing we should
be in lime to wJbness some ooclcfighting or a boxing-match; but my

MONSmUR VIOXJST. 211

American fellow-ti'avcUcrs, bettor acquainted with tbo mannera
and customs of the natives, declared it was the “ Cknirt-house,"

^•we had nothing to do there, we turned our horses* heads towards
the tavern, and the barbing of a pack of hungry dogs soon called
around us a Jiost of thu Bostonians.

Tt is strange that the name of city should be given to an unfinished
log-house, but such is the case in Texas; every individual possess¬
ing three Imndred acres of land calls his lot a city, and his house
be<'nmes at once th(‘ tavern, the post-office, the court-house, the
gaol, the bank, the land-oflico, and, in fact, everything. 1 knew a
man near the lied River, who had obtained from government an
appointment of postmaster, and, during the five years of his hold¬
ing the ofiico, he ha||giot liad & single letter in his hand. ^

city mania is a very extraordinary disease in the Ohited
States, and is the cause ot much disappointment to the travelled.
In the Iowa territory, I once asked a farmer my way to Bubugue.

“ A stranger, I reckon,” he answered; “ but no matter, the way is
ijUin enough. IVow, mind what I say: after you have forded the
ri^ (‘r, you will strike the military road till you arrive in the prairie;
then you ride tvvtiity miles east, till you arrive at Caledonia oifyj
there they vs'ill tell you all about it.”

I crf)Sso<i the rivtT, and, after lialf-aii-hour‘s fruitless endeavours,
I could not find the military road, so I forded back, and returned
to my host.

“ Law 1” he answered; “ why, the trees are blazed on each side
of the road.”

Now', if iio had told me that at first, I could not have mistaken,
lor I had seen tin* blazing of a bridle-path; but as he hadan-
I'liunced a military road, I expected what it imported—a military
road I resumed ni)'journey and entered the prairie. The rays
of the sun wen* very powerful, and, wishing to water my horse, I
hailed with delight a miserable hut, sixteen feet square, which I
s.iw at about half-a-mile from the trail. In a few minutes I wab
before the door, and tied my horse to a post, upon which was a
squiiro boar<l bearing some kind of hieroglyphics on both sides.
Upon a closer inspection, I saw upon one side “Ice ” and upon the
other, “ P O S T O F F.”

“ A Russian, a Swede, or a Norwegian,” thought I, knowing that
Iowa contained eight or ten thousand emigrants of these cotm-
“ Ice!—^wClI* that Is a luxury rarely to be found by a tra¬
veller iu the prairie; but it must be pretty dear; no matter, have
t-omo 1 must.” m

I entered the hut, and saw a dirty woman, half-naked, and shun-
^ bering upon a stool by the comer of the chimney.

She looked at mo and shook her head; evidentljr she did not
Understand me; however, she brought n^e a stone jfig fall ot Irhisky,
I horn tumbler, and a pitcher of water.

212 ‘ THAVEi.s Axn A«vr.N*Tuni;s or

‘^C.-vn you give ii>y hovhi* a pail of u^iit ur r" I asked agaiu.

The 'VVOKiati bent, down her body, and dragging from uiKU)r the
15h^ a girl of fourteen, quite naked, and with a skin as tough as that
of an alligator, ordered her to the u'cH .with a larg(‘ bucket.
Saving thus provided for my beast, 1 sat upon a stump that served
£or a chair, and once more addressed my hos^gss.

“Isow, my g«K)d Avoman, let us have tlie ice.”

** Tlie what?" she answered.

As I could not make lier understand Avhat I wanted, I was
Obligwl to drink the whisky Avith watt^r almost tepid, and my horse
being refre.she'd, t paid my fare and started.

1 rode for three hours more, and Avas confident of having per-
ftvrtned twice the distance named hy mine host oi' the morning, and
^’l the prairie still extended as far as the could reach, and T
<!«u]d not perceive the city of Oalodonia. Happily, 1 discov(‘nM a
man at a distance riding loAvards mt': Ave soon met.

^‘IIow far/' said I, to Caledonia city?”

“Eighteen miles,” ansAvcn’cd the traveller.

“Is there no f.inn on the Avay?" I r^^joineil, “for my horse is
-llreia.”

The horseman stared at me in amazement. “ Wdiy, sir,” he an¬
swered, “you turn your back to it] j^ou have ])as,sed it oigliteen
miles behind."

^‘Impossible!" I exclaimed; “T never loft the trail, except to
water my horse at a litllo hut.”

“’VC’cll,” he answered, tixat was at General Hiram'iVasliiiigton
Tippet’s; he keeps the pa.st-ofiice; why, sir, that was Caledonia
city.”

I thanked him, unsaddled my horse, and bivouac:ked where I was,
laughing heartily at iny mistake in having asked for ice, v/hen the
two sides of thf* board made “ Post-olRw.'.*'

But I must return to Boston and 3t.s court-house. As it was the
llhte of the assizes, some fifty or sixty individuals had come from
uifTeront quarters, cither to witness the proceedings, or to SAvap
. their horses, their .saddles, their boAvio knife, or anything; for it is
whilo law is exercising its functions tluxt a T<jxian is most anxiou.s
to swap, to cheat, to gamble, and to pick pockets and quaiTel under
Its nose, just to show his independence of all law.

The dinnor-bell rang a short time after our arrival, xind for tl
first time in my life, I found myself at an American tahle-d'hote.

, ^.s astonished, as an Indian well might bo. Before ray comp^v
nions and self had had-time to sit down Md make choice of any
particnlar dish, all was disappearing like a dream. A general
. Opposite to me took hold of a fowl, and in the twinkling of an eye,
stn'cred the wings and legs. I thought it was polite of him to carve
‘for others as well a.s himself, and was waiting for him to pass over
the dish after ho had helped himself, when to ray surprise, h(‘

MONB^IStlU VIOJLSSX* 21$

rotjimed all ho had cut off, and pushed the carcase of the bird
away from him. Before I had recovcTod from my astonlshineintj
Ijia plate was eni])ty. Another seized a plate of cranberries, a
’ fruit I was partial to, and I waited for him to help himself first and
then pass the dish over to me; but ho proved to be more greedy
tlian the general, foj^ with an enormous horn spoon, he swallowed
the whole.

The table was now deserted by all e>£.cept by me and my compa*
nions, who, with doleful faces, endeavoured to appease Our hupger
with some stray potatoes. We called the landlord and asked him
for soraethinsr to eat; it avjis with much difficulty tluit wo could get
half-a-dozen of eggs and as many slices of sidt pork. This lesson
was not thrown away upon me; and afterwards, wlnm travelling
in the States, 1 always helped myself before I was seated, caring
nothing for my neighbimrs. l\)ntf>ness at meals may bo and is
practised in Burope, or among the Indians, but among the Ameri¬
cans it woidd b(‘ attended with storvation.

After dinner, to kill time, Wi; wt nt to the court-house, and were
fortunate enough to find room in a position where we could see and
hear all that was goiJig on.

The judge was seated upon a chair, the frame of which ho was
whittling with such oarnestnes?, that he appeared to have quite
forgotten whi're ho w'as. On each side of hiui wore half-firdozen of
jurymen, squatted upon square blocks, which they were also
w'hil lling; judge and jurymen having each a cigar in the mouth, and
a flask of liquor, with which now and then they regaled themselves.
The attorney, on his h'gs, addressing the jury,- was also smoking,
us Well as the plaintilf, the defendant, and all the audience. Th^
Last were seated, horseback-fashion, upon iiarallel low benches, fo#
tlieir accommodation, twenty feet long, all turned towairds the judge,
and looking over the .shouUler.s of the one in front of him, and
busily employed hi carving at the bench betn een bis Uiigli and that
of his neighbour. It was a very singular coi/p-dVtV, and a uew'-
eomer from Europe w ould have supposed the assembly to have
been a “ whittling club.’’

Having surveyed the company, I then paid attention to the case
on trial, and as I was just behind the defendant, I soon learned how
justice was executed in Texas, or at least, in Texlan Boston. Jt
appeared that the defendant was the postmaster and general
merchant of the country. Two or three weeks back, the son of the
plaintiff had entered lii.s shop to purcha.se his ijrovision of cofibe,
sugar, and flour, and li.ad given him to change a good one-hundred-
dollar bill of one of ttie Hew Orleans banks. The merchant Rajd
returned to him a tifty-dolXar note and another of ten. Two Ipurs
afterwards, the young man, having swapped his horse, carriole,
and twenty dollars, for a w.oggqn and two couple of oxen, presented
the fifty-dollar note, which was refused as being counterfeited. The

TKAVEI.S AJTD ADTENTrUES OT

214

son of tlie plaintiff retnmed to the merchant, and reqxiested him to
give him a good note. Tlie merchant, howex er, -would not: “ Why
did you take it?” said he; ‘*I he d—d if I give you any other
money for it." TTpon -which the young man declared it xx as shame¬
ful swindling, and the merchant, Ihro-wing at liirn an Iron xvoight of
nine pounds, killed him on the spot.

The attorney, wlu> was now pleading for tht*defendant, was try¬
ing to impress xipon the jury that tlm murder had b('en merely
accidental, inasmuch as the merchant ha<l thrown the missile oidy
in sport, just to scare away the fcllon -who xvas insulting him in
his own house; but, strange to say, no mention was made at all of
the note, though cverj'body kncAv perfectly w<'li that the merchant
had gn'en it, and that it xv'as a. part of his trade to pass forged noh's
among his inexperienced customers. As soon as the lawyer had
elided the defence, the nierchflnt was called upon by the judge^to
give his own x'crsion of uhat oeeurred. lie ros(u—

“'Wliy,*' said he, “it was just so as has been .said. I wished not to
hurt the fellow; but he calhHi me a swindler. Well, Iknewtii**
man was in a passion, and I did not care. 1 only said, ‘How dare
you, sir?’ and I threvv the piece of iron ju.st to frighten him. 'Weil,
to be sure, the blackguard fell down like a bull, and I thought it was
a humbug. I laughed and .said, ‘None of your g’ammon;’ but be
"was dead. I think the thing must have .struck something on the
way, and so swerved again.st his head. I wished not t(> kill the
fellow—I be d d if I did.”

>1 The jurymen looked at each otlier with a signilleanf and approx'-
ing air, winch could bo tranislated as accidental Gabriel

touched the merehaut upon tlu; .sli >iilder, “ Vou should liave
said to him, lliat rou merelv wished to kill a nutsauilo xnion the
wall.”

“Capital idea,” cried the defendant. “I be d—d if it xva,s not a
musquito eating my molasses that 1 xvished to kill, aft«T all."

At that moment one of the jurymen approached the yxerehant,
and addressoxl him in a loxv voice; T could not. hear what pa,s.sed,
but I heard the parting xvords of the juryman, which were, “All's
right!” To this tlisp^'iiser of jastice succeeded anotlier; indeed, all
the jurymen folloxvod in sucecssion, to h£|ye a little private conver¬
sation with the prisoner. At last the judge condesetmded to cease
his whittling, and (jome t,f> make hi.s own bargain, xxhieh he <iid
openly:—

“Any good Saddles, Yielding? Mine looks rather shabby.”

“ Tes, by Jingo, a fine one, bound xvith blue cloth, and silx cr
natjs—Philadelphia.-raado—prime e.fisl sixty dollars.”

“That will do,” ari.sxvei*(*d the judge, xvalking back to bus seat.

Ten minutes afterwards the verdict of manslaughter xvas re¬
turned against the defendant, who wa.s considered, in a speech from
the judge, sufficiently punished by the affliction xvhich such an

MONStKUn

815

must, prodncp to a generous mind. The court brolie up,
and Fieldina:, jjruhably to sliow how deep his remor.se, gave three
<*!u'ers, to ultieh the whole court answered with a hurrah, and the
merchant was called upon to treat the whole company: of cour.se
he (‘ornplleil, and tlu-y all left thf; court-house. Gabriel and I
rerndined hehind. Jlh' had of'tt'n trhid to persuade mo to abandon
my ideas of going to t ije Slates and Europe, pointing out to me
th.it 1 .should he made a dupe and bocome a prey to pretended w’oll-
avishers. JIohaduarrat(‘d to mf‘nuinyiiiculent.sofhi.sownlife,ofhis
folly and credulity, wdiich had tlirovvn him from an eminent station
in civilized society, .arid had been the cause of our meeting in the
Western World. He forewarned me that I should bo disappointed
in my cNpectations, and reap nothing but vexation and di.sappoint-
ment. He Lnew the world too w'ell, I knew' nothing of it, and I
t/fouglit, that be was moved bv hilteruo.ss of spirit to rail so loud
agairet it. lb* would fain persuade ino to return with him to my
own tribe of Siioslumes, and not go in .search of w'hat I never
should obtain. He was right, imt 1 w'as obstinate. He did not let
pass this ojiportuuily of gi\ing me a lesson.

“Ton hiue ni*w witnessed,” said lie, “a sani^de of justice in this
soi~di>>ant r-ivili/ed <'ountrv. Two hundred dollars, p:n’hap,s, havo
clean'd a murderer; ten uiilliou.s would not have done it among the
Sho^houes.”

“ Hut Texas is not Euro];e,” replied I.

“No,” snid Gabriel, “it is not; but in Europe, tis in Texas, with
money jam can do iinythiug—w ithout money nothing.”

At that tnomeiil wg pereehod a man wrapt in his blanket, and
leaning against a tri'C.

Ho stinoyt'd the grouji receding to the tavern, and the deepest
tss'liiigs of iuitixid and riwengo were working evidently within him.
H.' saw ns md, .so intense iven* hi.s thoughts. It w'as tlio plaintilF
wliose son had been niurd(‘red. Gabriel resumed:—

“Now'J^mark that man; h" w.a.s tiu* puuiititf, the father of the
\oiuig follow so .sliameliilly plundered .and inurderud; ho isj evi¬
dently a poor farmer, or the a.ssas.sm would have been bung. He
is now brooding over revenge: the law gave not justice, he will
take it into hii, own handi, and he will probably have it to-night,
or to-morrowa Injustice cause.s crime, and ninety-riino out of a
hundred are forced into it by the impoteney of the law; they suffer
once, and arterw'ard.s act towards othor.s as they have been acted
by. That man may have Iwcn till this day a good, industrious,
and hospitable farmer; to-night he will he a immU'rer, in a week
he will have joined the free bands, and will then ri'vcngo himself
upon society at large for the injustice he has received from a small
portion of the community.”

Till then I had never given credit to my friend for any great
share of penetration, but lie prophesied truly. Eate in the night

210 THAVJULij AD^i:^"rulu;s «r

tlie father reuouncod his intontioti of roturnini? to iiis fai'in, anti
entered the general sleeping-mom of Ihu hoi el to light a cigar. A
glance infornied him of all that he wished to know. Forty indivi¬
duals were ranged sh^eping in their blanketalongshh- of the walls,
which, as 1 have observed, were foran^l of i)ino logs, with a ,s]);ir’e
of four or six inches between each: parallel with the wall, next to
the yard, lav' the murderer Fielding.

The fatherleft the room, to saddle his horse. An hour afterward,',
the report of a ritle was heard, sneeeeded by scre,anis and cries of
“Murder! help! mnrder! " Fvtrv oiie in tlu" sleeping-room was
up in a moment, lights wore procured, and th ' judge was seen upon
his knees wdth his hands upon his liiuih'r qTTarters; his neighbour
Fielding was dead, and the same hall which had passed through
his^baek and chest had blazed the bark oJT the netlier pai’ts of lips
pillar of Toxitin justice.

AVhen the ftrst surprise svavS over, pur.sult of the assassin was re¬
solved upon, and then it w'as discov<‘red that, in his revenge, the
father liad not lost sight of prudence. All th(‘ horses were loosi*;
the stable and the (smrt-hous?', as well as Itie bar and sjjirit store
f'ftho tavern, wore in llamco. Wliile iho Bostonians tmdoavoured
10 stoarw'hat tla'v could, and the landlord wiis healing his negroes,
the only partie.s upon wljoin he could vent his fury, our eomiianion.s
succeeded in recovering their Imrses, and at break of d ly, without
any loss but the gold watch of the doctor, wliicli had prol)a!>ly been
stolen from him during Ids slcej», we started for Uie last day’>
journey which we Inul to make in Tovas.

As we rode aw'uy, nothing remain d of IV.vian Boston e.veept
three patches of white aslu>s, and a few half-burnt logs, nor do 1
know if that important tity has c cr been rebuilt.

CHAPTER XXXin.

■\Vn were now but twenty'' miles from the Red River, and yet this
short distance proved to be the most dilflcult travelliiig wo had
experienced for a long while. We had cross swamps, lagoons,
and canebralvcs, in which onr hors-e.s were bogge<l continusilly;
that at noon, and after a ride of six hours, wc had only gaine«l
twelve miles. We halted upon a dry knoll, and there, for the first
time since the morning, we entor('d into eonversation; for, till
then* we had been too busy scrutinizing the ground before our
howsea'Veet. I had a groat deal to say both to Gabriel and to
„3l<oche; wc ^yqrQ to part the next morning—they to return to the
'■jpcmanches and the Shoshones, 1 to go on to the Mormons, and
^rhaps to Europe.

I could not laugh at the doctor’s bon mots, for my he.irt was full;
till tlieii, I had never felt how long intereour.se, tmd sharing the

VIOUST.

1217

.sanis* privations and danjr^rs, will attacli men to each other; and
the perspective of a lou^ separation rendered me gloomier and
gloomier, as the time we still had to pass together became shorter*
Our live American companions had altered their first intention
of trav(‘lliiig Avith me tlircnigh the Arkansas. They had heard on
till- vi'.'iv, that. Kojne ucav Dirivlng cities had lately sprung up on
the American sid(' of the lied River; the doctor was already spe¬
culating upon the fevi-rs and agues of the ensuing summei'; the
p.irson was continually dreaming of a neat little church and a
huxoni AV’ife, and the tliree laAvycrs, of rich fees from the wealthy
('otloii planters. The next day, therefore, I was to be alone,
among a people k'-s ho'->pitab!o than th<‘ Indians, tmd among whom
I liad to ])erlbrin a jouriu'v of a thousand miles on horsehae^, con¬
stantly on the fmtskirth of civilizaljon, and consequently exposed
to?dl th(v daii^(TS of border travelling.

"When Avo rcsnmetl our march through the swampy canebrake,
(ialirtt'i, Hoclic, and I kept a little behind our companions.

“Think tAvic(‘, whilst it is yet tim(‘,‘’ said Gabriel tome, “and
believe me, it is better to rule over your dc'voted and attached
tribe of Shoshones than to indulge in lU’eams of establishing a
Avesttu’ii empire; and, evi'u if you AAill absolutely make the attempt,
Avhy should w(' seek the help of wliito men? What can wo expect
fr<mi thoiu and their assistance^ hut exorbitmit clauns and undue
iuterieronco? With a feAv months’ rt‘gular organization, the Co-
maiieh.os, Apaches, and Sliosliones can bo made equal to any
soldiers of tlu‘ civilized world, and among them you wiU have no
traitors."

I felt the truth of Avliat he said, and for a quarter of an hour I
r-iuanied silent: “ Gabriel,” re]>lied I at last, “ I have now gone too
fill* to recs'do, anil the pl.uis which I have devised are not fbr my
t»\n advantage, htit IVu* tl](' general welfare of the Shoshones and of
all the iriendly tribes. I hope to live to see them u great nation,
and, at all events, it is worth a trial."

ISIy friend shook his lu'ad mournfully; he was not convinced, but
he knew' the bent of my temper, and Avas well aAvare that all lie could
say AA ould now we useless.

The natural buoyanej^of our spirits would not, however, allow
us to he grave long; and when the loud sliouts of the doctor
.announced that he had caught a sight of the river, wo spurred our
horses, and soon rejoined our company. We had by this time issued
from the swampy canebrakos, and Avere eiiLcriiig a lane between two
i-icli cotton-fields, and at the end of w'hich llowed tJie Red River;
not^’the beautiful, clear, and transparent stream running upon a
rodky and sandy bed, as in the country inhabited by the Oomauebes
and Piets, and there termed the Colorado of the West; but

red ami muddy, yet rapid stream. Wo agreed that wo should
i|ot ferry the river that cATning, but seek a farm, and have a feast

21S TKATEL9 AND ADVENTUfiES OP

before parting company. "Wc leatned from a n<?gr(), that, wo wore
in a place called Lo.st Prairie, and that ten minutes’ ride down Iho
bank of the stream would carry us lo (Captain Finn’s plantation.
We received thi.s news with wild glee, for Finn was a C(debra<f:d
Character, ono whose life was so full of .strange odveutures in the
wilderness, that it W'ould fill volumes with hairbreadth ( neounters
and events of thnlling interest.

Captain Finn rweived us with a cordial welcome, for unbounded
hospitiility is the invariable characteristic of the oldei- cotton
planters. A great traveller himself, ho knew the nece.s-'itics of a
travelling life, and, before eondiieting us to the mansion, he guided
us to the sUibles, where eight intelligent .slaves, taking our horses,
rubbed them rtowm before our eyes, au.l gave t hem a plentiful .‘■npiil.v
of fodder and a bed of fresh straw’.

That will do till they are dool,” said our kind host; '‘to-niybl
they will have their grain and water; let us now go to the old woman
and see what she can give us for sujip'u."

A circumstance vi’orLhy orr<‘mark is, that, in the western sfatos,
a husband always calls his wife the old woman, and she calks him
the old mail, no matter how' yonng the couple may bi;. I have
often heard men of twonfy-fiv<' .sending their slavi*s upon some
errand ^‘to the old w’oman,” who was not probably inort! than
Gightoeif*"years old. A boy often y(‘ar.s calls Ins parents in the

same w’ay.

ii

Ilow far to l>ittle Iloek?*' 1 once asked of a little

urchin; “1 don’t know,” answered he, ‘'but the old oiu’.s will toll
you.” A few yards farther I met the “ohl oue.s;" they vvt're both
young people, not much inoee than twenty.

In Mrs. Finn we found a siout and jilump fanner’s wdfe, hut she
was a lady in her manners. Bern in the wilderness, the dang'..ter
of one bold pione(;r and married to another, she had ne\'‘r st'en
anything but woods, cauebrakcs, cotton, and negroe-i, an 1 yt'l. In
her kindness and hospitality, she displa 5 ''ed a renovaieut of feelii.j
and good breeding, Sho was d/iughtor of the eelebrnti'd Dinitd
Boone, a name which has ac’quired a reputation (iven in Fnr.tp'n
Sho immediately ran.saciked lu>r pantry, her lu'n-i’oost, and irdi'n,
and when we returned from the cotton-mill, to wdiieh our l ost, in
bis farmer's pride, had conducted u‘:, wo-found, upon an imniioise
table, a meal which would havi* sati.sHed liffy of those voracious
Bostonians whom w^ehad nvd with the d.iy hfdore at t,h<‘ tahj,- d'hote.

Well do I recollect her, a.s .she stood before! us on that glorious
evening, her fesiture.s beaming wdth plea,sun*, as she witnessed the
rapidity with which wc ompliod oiir plates. How happy sin* would
look when we praised her ehiekens, In r boiry, and her cotfee—and
thou she would carve and cut, fill again our cups, and ])ress upon
us,all the delicacies of the Far West borders, delicacies unknown
> fft the old countries; such as fried beavor-taii, smoked tongue of
the buffalo-calf, and (the gourmand's dish par ('xcelknee) the Louisk

MOJjiftJEUK VlOIiEX. 219

ana pfombn. Her coffee, loo, Avas super)?, as she was one of the few
upon Uie continent of America who knew how to prepare it.

After our suppi'r tlie cajutain coiuluetc'd us under the piazza
, af tached t o th.- bundin'?, wlicre we found (‘ight hammocks suspehded,
as uiiite as siunv. 'I'liere our liost disinterred from a large bucket
of ice several bottles of Mad'ira, wdiich wo sipped with great
deliitht; the more so as, for our cane pipes and clieap Cavendish,
Finn substituted a box of gemiiiu Ilavannu ca/.adores. After our
fatigues and starvation, it was jnore tlinn comfortable—it was
delightful. The doctor vowed ho would become a planter, the
jrirson asUed if tlu re were any widows in tlic neighbourhood, and
ihe lawyers iurpiired if the planters of 1 be vicinity w'e^’e any way
litigious. Hy-tbe-bye, I have observed that Captain Finn was ft
cidebrated ch.iraet(‘r. As w'e warmed with the Mudere frappS a
wo i)ressed him to ridatt; so)ne oi his wild adventures, with
which request, he readily (MunpIicMl; for lie loved to rehearse his
{onner oxphels, and it was not alw ay.s that he ?ould narrate them
In s(t numerous an assionbly. As the style he employed could only
be understood by imli\ iduals who have rambled upon the borders
of the Far West, I will relab^ the little J remember in my own way,
though 1 am (‘onscious that the narrative must lose much when
told by any otu; but Finn him-self.

VNdien quite an infant, he had been taken by the Indians and
•arrit'd mto the faslne.sses of the West Vh’ginian forests; there he
had been brtiught iip till hu was sixteen years old, v>hen, during an
Judiaii war, he was recaptured by a party of winte men. Who
Wi re his parents, he could mwer disco?or, and a kind Quaker took
him into his house, gaM* him bis name, and treated him as his own
child, sendimr Iiiiu first to schoul, and tlicu to the FhUadelpUia
college. The young man, however, ?vas little fit for the restrictions
of a ullivcr^ily; he would often (“.cape and ?vander for days in tlie
forests, uutil Innigcr w'ould bring him home again. At last, he
iMurnoil to his adopted father, who ?vas no?v satisfied that his
thoughts wej'e in the wilderness, and that, in the bustle of a large
city ami re.stramt of civilized life, be would not li?'e, but linger on
till he droopi'd and died.

This discovery wms a sad blow to the kind old man, who had
fondly anticipated that the youngster would bo a kind and grateful
eomj)anion to lum, when ago should make him feel the want of
friendshi)?; but hu W'as a just man, and reflecting that perhaps a
short year of rambling would cure him, he ?vas tlje first to propose
it. Young Finn ?vas grateful; beholding the tears of his veuarable
protector, he w'ould have remained and attended him till the hour
of his death; but the Quaker would not permit him: he gave him
hbi be.st horse, and furnished him with arms and money. At that
time, the fame of Daniel Boone had filled the Kastern States, and
young Finn had read with avidity tlie adventures of that bold pio-

221) TBAVCLS AND ADVBNTUBJKii Of

neer. Hearing that he was now on tUo westoni bcrdofs of Ken¬
tucky, maldhg preparations for emigration farther west, into the
very heart of tho Indian country, ho resolved to join him and share
the dangers of his expedition.

The life of lloone is too well known for me to cles<?ribe this expe¬
dition. Suffice it to say, that, once in Missouri, Finn eoncoivod and
executed the idea of making alone a trip across the Rocky Mountains,
to the very borders of iho Pacific Ooeaa. Strangt' to say, he scarcely
remembers anything of that first trip, which lasted eleven months.

The animals had not yet been sciircd out of the wilderness; water
was found twice every day; the vine grew luxuriantl}’' in the forests,
tjnd the caravans of the white men had not yet destroyed the
patches of plmns and nuts which grow wild in the prairies.

Finn sa^'s he listened to the songs of the birds, and w'atclied the
sport of the deer, the buffaloes, and wild horses, in a sort of droa^n-
ing existence, fancying that he heard voices in tho streams, in tie-
foliage of the trees, in the caverns of tho mountains; his wild iin;i-
gination sometimos conjuring up strange and beautiful spirits of
another world, who wort' his gnardians, and who lulled him asleep
every evening wdth music and perfumes.

I have related this pretty nearly in the very torm.s of our lio.st, .and
many of his listeners have remarked, at different times, that when
ho was <fwolling upon that particular portion of his life, he l)ecain(‘
gloomy and abstracted, as if still under tin? inllui nee of former in¬
delible impressions. Undoubtedly Captain Finn is of a strong
poetical temperament, and any one on hearing him narrate would
say the same; but it is supposed that, when the eaptain i>erform(‘d
this first solitary excursion, Ms brain was alibcted by .'oi oxeited
and highly poetical imagination. After eleven months of soliuido,
he reached the, Pacific Ocean, arul uumke from Ids long illu.^ioii in
the middle of a people whose language he could not undi r.stand; >t*(
they were men of his colour, kind and hospitable; tlu y gave him
jewels and gold, and sent him back oast of the mountain.s, nndor tlu*
protection of some simple and mild-hearted savages. The spot
where Finn had arrived was at one of the im8.sion.s, and those w ho
released him and sent him back were the good monks of one of the
settlements in Upper California.

When Film returned to the Mississippi, his narratin' wa,s so
much blended with strange and marvellous .stories, that it was not
iiredited; bat when he showed and produced bis stock of gold du.st
in bladders, aaid some precious stones, fifty different proposals wen;
made to him pb guide a band of greedy advcntitrers to the new'
western iSSldbmdo. Finn, like Boone, could not bear the socii ty of
his own ebuntryraen; he dreaded to hear the noise of their axes
fellfeg the beautiful trees; he feared still more to introduce' them,
like so many hungry wolves, among tho good people who know fao
Wjsll the sacred rites of hospitality.

UONSIXUB VlQtET.

m

After a short residence with the old back*woodp.man, Finn re-
lurnf'd to Virsciiiia, just in time to close the eyes of tho kind old
Quaker. He found that his old friend ha<l expected his return, for
ho had sold all his property, and doposit(‘d the amount in the hands
of a safe hanker, to be kept for Finn’.s benefit. The young wanderer
Avas amazed; he had now ten thousand dollars, but what could ho
do uith so much money? He thought of a home, of love and hap¬
piness, of the (laughter of old Boone, and he started olF to present
lior witii his n( wly-aequirod wealth. Finn entered Boone’s cottage,
\A'ith his bags and pocket-books in each hand, and casting his bur¬
den into a corner, he enhmed at once upon the matter.

“ AVTiy, 1 say, old man, I am sure I love the gal."

“ She is a comely and kind girl," said the father,

“ T Avish she could love me."

•“ Slie docs."

“ Docs she? Well, T toll you Avhat, Boone, give her to me—Ill
try to her happy.”

r will, but not }’( t,” said the venerable patriarch. “ "Why, you
iiri' both of you nu're children; she can’t get a house, and how
could you sij])j)(>rt her?"

Finn jumped up aa ith pride and glee. “ Look," said he, while he
scattensi on tlu* door his bank-note.s, his gold, and silver, “that
will sii]>port lier bravely; tell me, old father, that will keep her
sutig, Av'ou't it?*’

I'hc pioneer nodded his head. “ Finn,” answered he, “you are a
good young man, and I like yon; you think like rae. You loA'e Polly,
and Polly loves you; mind, you .shall have her, when you are both
old (‘uoiigh; but rcimember, my son, neither your pieces of money
nor your rtigs of paper will ever keep a daughter of inuie. No, nol
y(»u shall haA o Polly, but yon must first know' how to use the rifle
and tlu* axe.” *

A short time after this interview Finn started upon another trip
to imknoAvn lands, leaving old Boone to make the most he could of
his money. Now, the old pioneer, although a bold hunter and an
i7ilr(‘pi(l wai'rior, was a more child in matters of interest, and in
less than tAvo months he had lost the whole deposit, the only “gen¬
tleman” he ever trusted having suddenly disappeared AiAuth the
funds. In the meanAvhile Finn had gone down the Mississippi, to
the thirty-second degree of north latitude, when, entering the
wc^stem swamps, where no white man bad ever penetrated, he
forced his way to the lied River, which he reached a little above the
old Frene.h establishment of Nachitoches. Beyond this point, in¬
land navigation had never been attempted; and Finn, procuring a
light dug-out, started alone, with his arms and his blanket, upon his
voyage of discovery. During four months he struggled daily against
the rapid stream, till he at last reached, in spite of rafts and dan¬
gerous eddies, its source at the Rocky Mountains. On his return.

2123 TllWELS A.NB AbVESTUUES OF

a singular and terrible adventure Ix'fid biui: lie >vas dragging tiis
oanoeuver a raft, exactly opi>osvte to v^'liorc now stands his jdantu-
tion, when, happening to hurt his foot, he lost liold of his eanoe. It
was on the % ery edge of th(’ raft, near a rufTled eddy; th>' frail liarh
was Rwamiad in a moment, and witlj it t’lmi lost his rille, all lii.s
arms, and his lilanket.’^

Now that cotton grown on the lied Ui\('r has heeo acknowled'jod

to be the best iutlie States, speculators ha\e ^. Itleil ii]>on l»oth sidt s

oF it as far as tv\o himdre.»i miles abioe l,osf rr.dri ’; l.ut at Ih •

time that Finn made bis cvcnrsiiMi, the eoiintry wai a uiiiierni of

horrible mora.sses, Avhere tiio alhgvXtors hacked utimoteshsl Vm

months Fmu found himself a prisoner at l-O'-t Prair'.-’, ihe

being surrounded with imp''netrahle swamti'. nhess i •’ hjht'-i

foot would have sunk niativ lalhorns belf*n lb ■ -lu i.ie ■, As lu

A'

crossing tlie river, it was out of the <piesn()i). a it v more flui
half a mile broad, and Firm was no swimmer; ei-n now, no hum.
being nor animal can cross it at tliis p trticular sjeg, foi- so ]tQuerii
are tho eddies, that, unless a y>i1ot is w.'H aequo tt-'d wiib the pre¬
sage, a boat will be capsized in the whirlpools. Human life e.m ’
sustained upon i (‘ry litthp for Fmn managed (u f <• (or moiitli. up.
a marshy ground, six mih^s in <'Xten), p irtiaily e, ,a red witli priei-
pears, .«our grapes, an<l mi.shrooms. thrds h.' /ed/i .er'a io.ialh
kill with sticks; several tirrus he .surpri'.ed ti.-KU .eoi ni}'’ .>0
shore to deposit tiieir egrs, and once, wiien 'uu, ii ]ire--ed Ip iiuc-
ger, he gave battle to a huge alligator Fire Iw h.ji i !.;i •, j'e
clothes had long been in rexs; his heard h.nt giouu to e. at
length, and Ills nails were slh.rp as the •law'. of a\\i!ii b'M'-l. '

last there was a flood in the river,-a .i 1 abort the rift I'liUi p".
ceived two immense pine trees adoar in tin* middle of the slnsiui
Impelled by the force iif the cun,'nt, they ctit through llje rail,
where tire timber wasVotten, and then rronnded.

This w'as a chance which Finn lo^t no Tnu' in profitin'; )r\; oid
of tho fibrous .substance of the prickly pear, he soon ra'uiufaet nred
smfficiont rope to lash that wo trees together, with gnsal i.ibonr got
them alloat, and was carried down the stream wd lithe sjrei d o( an
arrow. Hesuccecdiul in lauding manv miles belou, on tie casttru
bank, but he was .so bruised, that for many d'lv*, he was unable to
move.

One day a report was .sprc.'ul hi tin* rii ighbourlioo' I of Fort (/ilemii
that a strange monster, of th(' orang-i'Utan spi-ci's, had p uetrated
the canc-brakes upon the western hauk.s of tlir 'Mis.-^is.^ippi, Some
npgroas doclared to have .seen him fearing down a brov,n boar; an
Arkansas hunter had sent to Philadelphia an evaggiTatcd account

, * Rafts are an assemblage of forest trees, vvlueb have been washed down into
^i^ySver, from the undqiTulnhig of its banks. At certain points they tieeornc
towrlaced aud stationary, atrclehhig right across the river, preventing tho pas-
iMtgC of even a oaiiov.

MQNSl£trU VIOJLJET.

423

(tf this roci'iitly Ji,scov(>r<‘d animal, and tho members of the acade-
ini'"'' iiad wi'Uten to fiim t«) eateh tho anbnal, If possible, alive, no
jtinttor at w'liat cxp ^nsi*. A Itunliii'? expedition was consequently
Ini-m 'll, huivlrevi-b ol diys were lot loose in the cane-brakes, and the

I'l; :^I'

rii‘» Imiiti't's nore jtysernl) 1 ei}, v aitirn? till the strange ahimal
111.ehl break eo\ er, win'ii sudik'nly lie bursi npoii them, covered
V all hl()?)!l and I'ullitwed cIo^i-Ia' by ten or fifteen liounds. He was
. ■ ued 'vj; ii a hi'.i\y ehil), w itli v hu-li lie now and then turned upon
ih <lo'.‘^, ( flhiu -u a blow. The iiunters were dumb with

'-i. inslimriit , nioiinliti''; lin'ir hor-es, they sprang forward to wit-

■ - 111*' ei'nibc! ■ fhe luMifi' i)n seeing them gave a loud shout; orn‘
i' !iu> iinniir- tn-nm tta rili'd, fired at him vt ith his rifle; the strange

I'tn.il put oil oflii^ liiirv piws njtoii bis lu'oast, staggered, and
'-.-gi \ ^\,l^ 111 ,ird “'riK* laird iwrgive you this miirderl”

;; 1 enuiinL' lie ir, flic ininlers loan 1 fhat their viefdm was a man,

• 1*1 i! uith iiair b un Ik ad to (hot; lu" ^vas senseless, but not dead.
'Ml' ile’plui’i’d iheir fat d error, .iiid r-sohed that no expense nor
*' nteiii siiDifd If -[lared upon the nnrorlntnte bufferer. This
' i’ I !>'■ I'-i, till ' hairv man, \v is I’inn. Tfie Wjpniid, not being
' • was so'i'i I iT’e I (ml he lieeaine cra/iV, and did not recover
-■'1! ler (i'hr montliH. lie rel-itiMl hi< adventures np to his
\!s la ib.i-ia'.t Trair’.e; a!'t< r \\ hieh all was a blank. His nar-

^ .111! spread ;d! mer Die S(afes, and land speculators

i' iroid ev( rv p irf to lu'ai’ Finn's deseripfiiiu of the unknown
iti i'•- 'i'!)" KoM i-iimenf became auxinus to estaldifili new set-

■Kis II, > (i!'.imr'e%, and Finn uas hiduced toeoinmeuce the
I i.< c'lleuk .iDk.u by tbi eift oi the Dost ITairic. Money
' .1 ■-iippa d lo liim, that he purcluisc slaves; but, be-

I d ; i ’ ],' -s-,c^-sion ol hi^ ,'',raut, he wt nt to JVIipsonri to visit his
iii.oi :’,ji i < lahti hi, bride hh'r iatlier liad been dead foi*

, (.ill', ii'd t'K-danc'ht,/r was eon'.t ant.

eit'i l.b, w'le, lus brutlier-iu-i’iw, his ncgrocs, and several
' -r'l, l.taded with the rno'it nceessary artieles, Finn forced hi.s
lo l.itDe tt‘>(l;, onDie \rkansa.s river, whence, after a Short

■ le. , he ae.iin .stiirU'd ui a .SP. M. direction, tlu'ongh a hilly and
■' ' iy I''luitry nevi r before travelled. At ht^t ho reached the
, 1 ' ! Fi'iirie, niDimtwa.s lieard of liiin for to'o years, When he
e, p , 1 ,’d at \ p-li.(o''l.es in a long laden wiDi produce.

t I Old .Vaeljiio. iies Film proeeedcil to New Orleans, whore the
! ( \ r.-eel'. ed lor hi^ eolton, furs, and honey, enabled him to pur-

‘*1 (wo more negi’iH's and a tresh .supply of hu.sbandr}'' tools. A
‘idp uiy ua.s iinuu'diatcly formed, lor the purpose ot exploring
he Udfi iiiver, as far as it might prove navigable, and surveyitag

* A of.w is a kind of lioiitmg nifi peonhav to tho western rivers of America,
** >11'.; coinpusisi of Immense x)im!-tro('.s tied together, and upon which ft log
akin i3 erected.

224 TBAVKLS AND ADVKJfTrnrS or

the lands susceptible of cultivation. A small stcain-boat wxis px'o-
cured, and its command offered to Finn, who thus becamo a cap¬
tain. Althouj?li the boat could not proceed higher than Lost
Prairie, the result of the survey induci'd hundreds of planters tc?
settle upon the banks of the river, and (Japtaiu Pinn lived to
become rich and honoured by his countrymen; his great spirit ol
entei-prise never deserted him, and it was lui who first proiiosed to
the government to cut through the great rafts which imiK'ded the
navigation. Ilis plans were followc«l, and exploring st<ain-boats
have since gone noaidy a thousand miles above Captain Finn’s
plantation at Lost Prairie.

C’TTAPTEU XXXTV.

Tan ne.xt morning our American companions hatle ns farewc’li,
iuid resumed their journey; hut Captain Finn insisted that
Gabriel, Roche, and 1 should not leave him so soon. ITe poinU '
out that my steed would not he able to travel mui'h farther, if
did not giA’^e liim at least iw'o or three da 5 \s’repose; as for th
horses of my two eoiiipanions, tluw had hecorne quite ns(d'\ss, aii'
our host charged himself witli jiro uring them others, Asliieli AXvUih
carry them back to the Comanches.

Captain Finn's hospitality was not, however, so heavily taxed
for during the day a llotilla of fifteen canoes stopped heforc' tli'
plantation, and a dozen of French traders eaine u]) to the house
They were intimafo friends of the captain. A\ho Jiad known tin i(
for a long time, and it fortnnatelx liappened tliat tliey Avere jiro
feeding with goods to purchase thu furs of the J*aAvnce Piets
They offered a ptussago to Gabriel and Ivoche, wlif», of eours.
accepted the welcome proposition. The}- embarked their saddle
W'ith sundry provisions, Avhich the good Mrs. I’inn iorce<l iipca
them, Tvliile her hospitable husband, unknown to th(‘m, put inf
the canoe.s a bale of such articles as lie thought AA ould bo useful (
thcm*during their long journey. The gift, as I afterwards learned,
W'as composed of pistols and holsters, a small keg of jiowder, bar
of lead, new l)its and stirrups, and four MackiuaAv hlaukets.

At last tlie moment arrived Avhen J was to part w itli my friimds
I felt a bitter pang, and I wept w'iieii I found myself alone. Ilou
ever, I consoled myself with the relh^ctiou that our si'paration Ax .-e
not to bo a long one, and, cheered up hy the captain, 1 soon ovi r
came the Irftfcemees of tlie separation. Yet, for months aftcrw'ard.’

felt lonely and tired of myself; I had never had an idea Ixow pain
ibl it is to part Irom the only feAv individuals Avho arc attached b
one. My worthy host showed much interest in my welfare. A,
he had some business to transact at the hmd-ofliee in the Arkansas
he resolved that he would accompany me two or three days on iny

MONSJIBtJlt VIOLET.

225

joBrnc-y. Five days after ihu departure of Gabriel anil Koclie, we
rrussod fh(‘ Red River, and soon arrived at Washington, the only
plaeo of any importance in the west of Arkansas.

l''rom Washington to Jnttle Hock, the capital of the state, there
is a ni'iil-road, with farms at every fifteen or twenty miles; bnt the
captain informed me they wi're inhabited by the refuse from other
.‘.tales, and that ^vi st of the ]\Ii; 5 sissippi (c\(‘npt in Louisiana and
Mi.ssonri) it was ahvny.s .safer to tra^ el through the wildtTness, and
camp out. Via acimrdingly tool. t|^m bac]?-wood trail, across a
hiliy and romantii*. country, entirely rniner.al, and full of ('xtliict
^ olcanoe.s. The quantity ol'game found in th'^.se parts i.s incredible;

( vi.'ry ten minutes we would start a band of some twenty turkeys.
.\t all limc.s, deer were seen gra/.ing wdthiu ritlc-.shot, and I don't
think that, on our first <lay’.s journey over the lnll.«, wo met less
tii.^1 twenty 1 >< ars.

Tndependeul of his love for the wihbrue.s.s and his hatred of
h')\\h‘-hnife nx'Ti, Captain Finn had another r-'^ason for not follow¬
ing the inuU-road. Ib' h.ad business to transact at the celebrated
t'.ot springs, and h.e had to call on the way upon one of his brothei’s-
iii-law, a son of JJoono, and a migtity hnnt(>r, who had .settled in
the very lu'art of Hu' monnt.'iins, and who iri.ide it a rule to take a '
trip every sjaung to the Roci y Itlountains. The second day, at
noon, aft' r a. toilsome .oseint of a fi'W thousand feet, we arrived at
a .>00111 clearing on the top of the rnountaine, where tlio barking
of the dog.s and the crowing of the fowls announced tin; vicinity of
a habitation, and, ere many minntos elapsed, we beard the sharp

rcp.'irt. of a

‘‘ Young JlooTic's own, 1 declare,'’ oxclaiined Finn; “ *twas I that
UlUc him the tool. I should hnow it.s crack amidst a thousand.
Now ni.ark ine, chief, Boone never niissos; he, has killed a deer or
n hear; if th'' find, .soavch fora hole between the fifth and sixth
riii; if a boar, look in th.o eye. At all event.s, the young chap is a
capital c‘00k, and we arrive in good time. Did I not say so? By
all the alligators in the swamps! Eh, Boone, my boy, how fares
'Mvithyc?”

^Ve had by thi.s time arrived at the spot where the buck lay
dead, and near the body was standing the gaunt form of a man,
alxmt forty years old, dressed in tanned leather, and standing six
feed, nine in his mocassins. Though wo wmre within a yard of him,
he reloaded his ride with imporlnrbablo ‘gravity, and it was only
Avlu'u he had finished that job, that 1 could perceive his grim ,
fi'at.uros beaming w’ith a smile.

‘•Welcome, old bo}^ wolcoini', stranger; twice welcome to the
Imnter’a home. I knew somebody wa.s coming, because 1 saw the
pigeons were dying up from the valley below; and as dried venison
won’t do after a morning trip, why, I took tb.e ride to kill a beast
out of flock." The hunter grinned at hi.s conceit. “ You S( 3 e,"

226 TJlAVJSLS AKb ADVENTURES OE

he continued, this place of mine is a genuine spot for a hitatx^r.
Every nmming, from my threshold, I can shoot a deer, a bear, ot
a turkey. I can't abide livhig in a country where an honest mati
must toil a whole day for a mouthftil of meat; it would never do
for mo. Down blackey, down Judith, dowm dogs. Old boy, take
the scalping-knife and skin the bt;ast under the red oak.'*

This second part of the sentence was addressed to a young lad
of sixteen, an inmate of the hunter’s cabin; and the dogs, having
come to the conclusion that^vc wore not robbers, allowed us to
dismount our horses. The cabin wjis csjrtainly the ne plus ultra
of simplicity, and yet it was comfortable. Four squai-e logs sup¬
ported a board—it was tlw? table; inafty more were used as fauteuih ;
' and btttfalo and bear hides, rolled in a corner of the room, ivere
the beddhig. A stone jug, two tin cups, and a large boiler, com¬
pleted the Ihrniture of the cabin. Tht^re was no chimney; all the
cooking was done outside. lu due time we feasted upon the hunter’s
spoil, and by w'ay of passing the time, Boone related to us his first
grizzly bt'ar expedition:—

'While a very j'onng man, ho ha<l gone to the great mountains ot
th© west with a party of trappers. His great strength and dex¬
terity in handling the axe, and t he deadly j)re(;l.sion of lus aim with
the rifle, had giv«!n him a reputation among his companions, an<l
yet they were always talking to him as if he were a hoy, because
he had not yet followed the Ked-skins on the vvar-i)a,th, nor fimght
a grizzly bear, which deed is considered quite as iionourable and
more perilous,

young Boone waited patiently for an opportunity, when one day
he witnessed a terrible contlict, io which one of these huge mon¬
sters, although wounded by twenty balls, Avas so el^^ely pursuing
the trappers, his companions, that they were compelled to seek
their safety by plunging into the very middle of a broad river.
There, fortunately, tlie strength of the animal failed, and the
stream rolled him away. It had been a terrible fight, and for many
days the young man would shudder at the r(!coUcction; but he
could no longer bear the taunts which were bestowed upoi» him,
and without announcing his intention to his companions, he resolved
to leave them and bring back with him the claws of a grizzly bear,
or die in the attempt. For t wo days ho watched in the passes of
the moitntains, till he discovered behind some bushes, the mouth of
a dark cave, under a mass of rocks. The stench which proceeded
firom it, 'alxd the marks at the entrance, were stifilcient to point out
to the hunter that it contained the object of his search; but as the
sun had set,ihe reflected that the beast was to a certainty awake,
and most prdbably oat in search for prey. Boone climbed up a tretj,
from which he could watch the entrance of tlie cave; having scoured
himself and his rifle against a fall, by thongs of lather, with which
huntet is always provided, fatigue overpowered him, and he slept.

aioifSiisbA vioi,tT.

' At morn ho was awakenod by a growl and a rnstWng noise below?
it was the bear dragging to his abode tho carcase of a buck. When
ho thought that tihe animal was glutted with dtesh, and sleeping,

‘ lloone descended the tree, and, leaning his ride against the rock,
he crawled into the cave to reconnoitre. It must have been a
terrible moment; but he liad imido up his mind, and he possessed
all the eourag(j of his ftithiir: the cave was spacious and dark. The
heavy grunt of the animal showed that he was asleep.

By degrees, the vision of Boono became more Clear, and he per-
ccivi'd the sliaggy mass at about ten feet from him and about twenty
vards from the entrance of the cave. TUtj ground under him yielded
to his >veight, for it W'as deeply covered with the bones of animals,
and more than once he thought himself lost, when rats, snakes, and
other reptiles, disturlied by him from their meal, Avould start away,
in %rery direction, witli loud hissing and other noises. The brute,
however, itev(!r awoke, and Boone, having finished his survey,
crawled out from this horrid den to prepare for the attack.

He first cut a piece of pitch-pine, aix or seven I'eet long, then,
taking from his poucli a smail cake of bees*-wax, he wrapped it
round one end of the stick, giving it at the extremity the shape of
a small imp, t<i liold some whisky. This done, he re-entered the
cavern, turned to ills left, fixed his new kind of flambeau upright
against the wall, poiir<*d tli(! liquor into tin* wax cup, and then went
out again to jiroeiirofire. With theromaindcT ofhis wax andapieceof
cotttm tw’ine, he made a .small taper, which h(* lighted, and crawled
in again over the liones, shading his light w'^Pth one hand till he had
applied tliC flame to the whisky. Tlio liquor was above proof, and
as Boone returned and took his position nearer the cntrahce, with
lii.s ritJe, it tlu*ew up a vivid flame, which soon ignited the wax and
the pitcli-pini^ it.S('lf.

The bear required something more than light to awake him from
his most lethargic sleep, and Boone tlirow bone after bofie at him,
till the brute woke up, growled with astonishment at the umisual
sight before him, and advanced lazily to examine it. The young
man had caught up his rifle by the barrel; lie took a long ahd steady
aim, as he knew that he musf die if the bear was only wounded?
and as the angi*y animal raised his paw to strike donw the obnoxious
torch, he fired.' There was a heavy fall, a groan, and a stimggie
—the light was extinguished, and all was dark as before. The next
morning Boone rejoined his companions as they Were taking thbir
morning meal, and, throwing at their foot his bleeding trophies,
he said to them, who will dare to say that 1 am not a

man?’*

The history of this bold deed spread in a short time to even the
remotest tribes of the North, and when, years afterwards, Boone
fell a prisoner to the Black-fbet Indians, they restored Him to liberty
and loaded binf With presents, saying, that they could not hurt the

S 28 iri^AvxiiiS Alto Auvi!iKxtr£tx;$ OF

great ba^te i\'ho bad vanqtiisbed in his own d<'n tha ovil spirit of
the mojonfeiins.

' Ait fijiathcr tiinc, Boone, when hardly pressed by a party of tlio
Flat-hea<l Indians, fell into a ci'evice and broke biitl of his rillc.
Ho was safe, however, frona immediate danger; nt least, he thought
so, and resolved ho would remain whore he was till his pursuers
should abandon their eoarcli. On exaraining the phieo whi<*h had
alTordcd him so opportune a refuge, he pi'rcoived it w'jis u spacious
natural ^save, having no other oniranco than thi» hoU; or apertnni
tliroagh which ho had fallen. Ho thanked Providonoe for this for¬
tunate discovery, as, for Ij^e future, ho would have a safe placi> to
conceal his skms and provisions while trapping; but as he was
pro.seeuting his search, he porceivinl with dismay that the cave wa.s
ab'cady inhabited.

, In a corner he pe rceived two jciguars, whieli followed his niyj.vr-
raents with glaring eyes. A single glanwe satisfied him thev' wore
oubs; but a maddening thought shot across his brain: the inotlu r
was out, probably not far; might retuini in a moment, an{l Ikj
had no arms, except his knife and the barrel of Jjis broken rjtl\
WbUe musing upon his perilous situation, he heard a roar whieli
summoned all his cnergj'^. He rolled a loose mass of rock to the eii-
ti’anec; made it as firm as ho could, by b iciung it with oUior
st(Mies; tied his knife to the end of his riilo barn*l, and calmly
waited for tlie issue. A minute p:issed, when a tremendous jaguar
dashed against the rock, and Boono needed all Ms ciaiit's stri'iigih
to prevent it from giv#ig way.

Perceiving that main force could not clear the passage, the ani¬
mal began scratching and digging at the entr.mco, and its hideous
roars wore soon ref'.p'mdod to hy the cubs, which threw themuaves
upon Boone. He kiclced thorn away, but not without rcc('i\ ing
several ugly scratches, and, thrusting tho blade of his knife thr-ough
the opening between the largo stone and the solid rock, he broke
it ill the shoulder of the female jaguar,’which, with a yell, started
away. This respite was fortunate, as by this time Boone's strcngtii
was exhausted; he profited by the suspension ofho.stility, so as U>
iniTease the impediments, in case of a now attack; and roficcting
that the mewings of the cubs attracted and enraged the mother, h
knocked fch^ brains out with the barrel of Ms rifcle. Huriug t wo
houjre he was loft to repose himself after his exertions, and ho was
tx^pnhih^ to think the animal had been scared away, when another
tcrribl!^(^ubd against iho raassive stone forced it a few inches int
tor an hour ho struggled, tiU the jaguar, itself tired,
not hearing the mowings of her oub.s, retired witli a piteous

.^Jjiowl.

!■; Night ca^e, and Boono began to despond. Leaving the cave was
out of question, for the brute was umloubtedly watching for him;
<Bid yet remaining was almost as dangerous, as long watching and

continual exertion woi^'hed doWn hls eyelids and rendered slefjp
imperative. Uti decided to remain wiiore ^ was, and after another
hour of labour in Ibrtyyinic tho efttriuic^, he Jay down to sleep, with
'the barrel of his rifle close to Mm, of attack.

H(i liad slept about tlireo or four hours, when ho was awakened
by a noise t-losc to his lu'ad. The moon was shminjjf, and shot her
beams through the creviet'S at the mouth of tiic cave, A foreboding
of danger would not allow Hooni^ to sk'(‘p any more; he was watch¬
ing Aviih intense anxiety, when he observed several of the smaller
stones he had placed roxind the i)lcce of rock rolling towards him,
and tiiat the r.iys oflight streaming into the cave were occasionally
f];’.rken(*d by some interpoijed body. It w'as the jaguar, which had
hot 11 undermining tho rock; one after th(; other the stones gave
way; liooue ro?.', grasp ed his heavy rillo barrel, and determine
to <%vait the attack of tho animal.

ill a second or two, the heavy .stone rolled a few feet into the
cave; tiit‘ jajmm’ advanced her head, then her shoulders, and at
last, a rioiaoless bound brought her witliin four foot of Boone, who
at that critical moment collecting all his strength for a decisive
blow, dasla'd her skull to atoms. Boone, quite exhausted, drank
some of h<*r blood to allay his thirst, ])illowed his licad upon her
body, and fell into a ileep .sleep.

Tho ii '.vt inoniing Booiie, after having made a good meal of one
of lh(» cubs, .started to rejoin his compamons, and communicated to
them Iii.s adventure and discovery. A short time afterwards the
c.j vewas stored with all the articles neccs.sary to a trapper's life,
:md soon became the rendc2vou.s of all the adventurous men from,
tlie banks of the river Platte to the shores of tho-Groat Salt Lake.

Since Booth' had settled in his present abode, he had had a hand-
to-hand fight with a black bear, in tlm ver^'-room wdiere wm wei’o
dlting. 'When he had built his log cabin it was withdhe intention
of tal:ing to himself a w’ife. At that time he courted the daughter
of one of the old Arkansas settlers, and he wished to have “a place
and a crop on foot” before he married. The girl w*as killed by tho
fall of a tree, and Boone, in his sorrow, sent, away the whom
lie hixd hired to help him in turning his field,” fot he wished to bo
alone.

Months elapsed, and his crop of com promised an abundant har¬
vest; but ho cared not. He would take his rifle, and remain some-
iime.s for a month in the woods* brooding over his loss. The season
was far advanced, when, one day, returning home, he percoived
that the bears, tho squirrels, and the deer, had made rather free
with the golden ears of his com. Tho romaindor he resedyed ;to
save for the use of his horse, and as he wished to begin harvest next
morning, he slept that night in tho cabin, on his solitary psllet.

The heat w as intense, and, as usual in these countries* dnting sum¬
mer, left his door wide open.

aao TTlAVttS AWD AnVsK-UimuS OT

It T»a$ about inlOnight, uhep he heard somclhinj; tumhlinff in
the room; be rose iu a moment, and, hearimf a s.hort and h(‘avy
breathing, he ashed who it was, for th( darUmsswas such, that
he could not see two yards before him. Ko answ < i tx’ing gi^. en, ex¬
cept a kind of half-smothered grunt, headianc<‘d, and i)uttlng out
his hand, ho seiijed the shaggy coat of a bear. Surprist rendered
him luotionli'ss, and the animal giving him a blow on the chest with
his terrible paw, tlircw him (hnin outside the clooi*. Booni* could
hai e oscMiiod but, maddened with the pain ot his tall he only thought
of vengi*aiK*<»,and sei^inghlshnife and tomah.iwk,w hichwert fortun¬
ately within his reach, he ditrtod furiously at the beast, dt alingblows
at random. Great as w as his strength, histomahaw k could not pene¬
trate through the thick coat of the animal, which ha\ing eiu'ireled
the body of hia assailant with lus paws, was pressing hnn in one of
thosodeadlyembiact^swhich could onlyhaieheeinesisted bj a gV^'^t
like Boone, Fortunatel}, the black bear, unlike the gri'^cb, v erj sel¬
dom uses his claw & and t<>eth m fighting, contenting himsc It w ilh smo¬
thering his victim. Boone disentanghsl Ins h tt arm, and with his
knife dealt a furious blow^ upon the snout of the animal, which,
smarting with pain, reli‘as(d his hold. The snout is the only lul-
ncrable part in an old black Ix'ar, 3 h en at forty yards, the ball of
a ride will Batten against his skull, and if in any other part of the
body, it will scarcc'ly produce any si*rious cBeet.

Boone, aware of this, and not daring to risk another hug, darted
away from the cabin. The bear, now quite angrj, iollowini and
overtook him near the fence. Fortnnati Iv the clouds were clear¬
ing away, and the moon tbrx'W light suBicient to * uahle the hunter
to striko with a mc>ro certain aim* chance also favoured him; ho
found on the ground one of the rails ma>(le ot the l)lu<* ash, very
heavy, and ton feet in length; he dropped his kiiile and tomahawk,
and seizing the* rail, he renewed the fight with caution, tor it had
now become a struggle for liti‘ or death.

Had it been a bull or a panther, tluy would have had their bones
shivered to pieces by the tremendous blow s whicli Boone dealt upon
hiB adversary with all the strength of despair; but Bruin is by na¬
ture an admirable fencer, and, in spite of his unwieldy shapes there
is not in the world an animal whose motions are more rapid in a
doge encounter- Once or tw ice ho was knot ked dowm by the force
of the blows, but gtaierally ho would parry them with wonderful
a^lity. At l|Uit ho succeeded in seizing tin* other end of the rail,
and dragged jfc towards him with irresistible force. Both man and
beast fell, rolling to the place where he had dropped his arms,
while tfa« advanced upon him; thi* moment was a rritcial one,

but Bowiie accustomed to look at and brave death in every
and with a steady hand he buried his tomahawk in the snout
oflds anemy,iattd, turning round, bo rushed to his cabin, bellei mg
hn would have time to secure tho door. Ho closed the latch, and

MOIfSIlitJE TlOtilCT. ^ 231

applifcl hib shouUlors to it; but it was of no avail, the terrible brute
dashed in hoa«l foremost, and tumbled in the room with Boone and
th<‘ fragments of the door. The tn-o foes rose and stared at
(‘.leli other; Boono had nothing loft but his knife, but Bruin was
tottering and uuslc idy, and Boone felt the match was more equal.
Once iuor<‘ tluy closed.

A few hours after sunrise, (’iiptaiu Piim, returning home from
tlie legislature at Little Rock, called upon his friend, and, to his
horror, found him ai>parently lifeh'ss on the tloor, and alongside of
him, the body of tiu* bear. Boone bOon recovered, and foimd that
the lucky blow which had sa\ed him from being erushod to death
had buried the whole blade of his knife, tlirough the left eye, in the
M’i*y brain of the animal.*

( HVPTF.lt XXXV.

Tun next morning all three* started, and by noon we had crossed
the Washita River. It is the most beautiful stream I kmow of,
being cool and traus])arent, averaging depth of eight or ten feet,
and running upon a h.ird sandy bottom. While we were crossing,
Jlo(»ne (old us thaf .n soon as wo arrived at (ho summit of the
woody hills before us, if we looked sharp, we should son some
bears, for he h.ul never jiassed that way without shooting one or
two.

Wo forded the stream, and cutcTcd into a noble forest of maple
trees, (ho ground now rising in gentle swells for several mUes,
when the fir-jiines, succeeding to tho maple, told US that w& had
rnached tho highest point of tho hills. Hearing some trampling
and rustling at a <list anee, I spurred my horbo, to take the lead and
have the first chance of a shot, when I perc‘t*ived to my left, not
(w enty yards from me, and in a small patch of briars, a large she-
bi'ar Inlaying witli her cub. I was just raising my rille to fere,
when Boone’s voice called me back, and T perceived that he and
Finn had just dismounted and entered a thicket. Knowing that
they muht have*on object in view, I joined them, and askevl what
was tho matter.

“Haro sport,” answered Finn, extending his hand towards a
precipitous and rocky part of the mountain.

It was sport, and of a very singular description.

A large deer was rmming at full speed, closely pursued by n
puma. The chase had already been a long one, for as they canm
nearer and nearer, I could perceive both tlieir long parched tongues

* The black bear does not grow to any groat size in the eastern and nortfiaca
parts of America, but in Arkansas and the adjacent states It becomes, from its
size and strength, almost as formidable an antagonist as a grizzly ixm. It is
Very common to find (hem eight hundred weight, but aometimea they weigh
above a thousand pounds.

TKAVULB AJID AO^fiNfOIlEa OP

Imnging out of their mouths, taxd thoir houmliu^’ though powerful,
itog no longer so clnslie as xisual. Tlie dl<'er, having now tirriied
W'ithin two hundred yards of tlie bear, stopped a moment to snitf
the air; then coming still nearer, he made a botmd, with his head
extended, to ascertain if Bruin was still near him. As the puma
was closing with him, the door wliceled sluvrp round, and turning
back almost upon his own trail, passed w ithin thirty yards of his
pursuer, wlio, not being ahlo at once to stop his career, gave an
angiy growl and followed the doer again, but at a distance of some
hundrod yards; h'^aring the growl, Bruin drew his body half out
of the briars, remaining quietly on tbe look-out.

“ Gone,” I exclaimed.

“Wait a bit,” answered Boone; “h re he comes arrsin.*'

He was right; the (le< r again appeared, coming tow.u’ds us, but
his spcH’d uas much reduced, and as he aiiproaehed u«, it >7lis
evident that tlit animal was calculating his dist.uice with admira¬
ble precision. The puma, now expecting to .seize liis prey, followed
about thirty yards behind; the lu'ar, aware of the elose vicinity of
her enemy, cleared the Iniars and sqtiared liersell lor action, when
the detT, with a beautilul and piweriul spring, pass *d the bear’s
hoad and digappeared. At the monu nt ho took the h^ap, the puma
was close ux>on him, and was just balancing himsidf lor a spring,
when he perceived, to liis astonishment, that now lie was Iswt d by a
Ibrmidable adversary, not the least disposed to fly. Ho crouched,
lasliMig his flanks with his long tail, while the hear, about five yards
tVom Idm, remained like a statue, looking at tlu' puma with his
little glaring eyes.

One minute they remained thus—t^ic puma, its sides heaving with
exertion, agitated and apparently undecided, the boar, perfectly
calm and motionless. Gradually iSfte puma crawled backwards, till
at a right distance for a spring, when throwing all its w'cight upon
its hind parts> to iucrcisu its power, it dai'tcd upon the bear like
lightning, and fixed itA (lawrs into her back. The bear, with irre¬
sistible force, seized the puma with her two fori^paws, pressing it
with al| the weight of her body and rolling over if. liV e heard a
heavy .grunt, a plainth e howl, a crashing of bones, and tbt‘ puma
wa« dead. The emb of the bear came to ascertain what was going
on, and after a few minutes’ examination oi the victim, it strutted
down the slope of the hill, followed by its mother, which was
apparently uidiurk tVe did not attempt to prevent their retreat,
for among real hunters in thn wilds, there is a feeling which
restrains them from attacking an animal which has just undergone
a This is a very common practice of tho doer, when

ehas^ by a puma—that of leading him to tho haunt of a hear; I
have ckft® witnessed it, although I never before knew the doer to
tHlm, as it did in tlds instance.

sThis incident rtunlnds me of another, which was witnessed

MoilSTSetrtt vidtB’r, 253

hy Gabriol, a short timo bt‘for<* the murder of the Prince
S. ravallo. (iabrh*! had left his companion, to look after
niul he wiDn came upon tho track of a wild boar, which le<l
1 o a ffrovo of tall persimon trees; then, for iho first time, he
])crcoivod that he li«id left his pouch and powder-horn in the
(orap; but he cared little about it, as he kn^w that his aitn
certain. When within sixty yjirds of the grove, he spied the boar
«t the loot of OIK' of the outside trees: tho animal was eating tho
Iruit which had f.iUeii. Gabriel raised his eyes to tho tliick-leaved
branches of the tree, and perceived that there was a large black
hear in the tree, also regaling himself with the fruit. Gabriel ap¬
proached to wnthin thirty yards, and was quite absorbed with tho
n(>^ elty of tho sight.

At ovory nuntmmt of Pniin, hundi'ods of porsimons would fqll
<l(H||n, ami llu*s<‘, of course, wero the ripest. This tho boar knew

ry wi'll, and it was with no small jealousy that he witnessed the
))0 ir below making so luxurious a meal at his expense, while he
< ould only pick tho greon fruit, and tliat with difficulty, as he
<lar(*(l not trust his body too far upon the smallor limbs of the tree.
\ow and tiicn he would growl fiercely, and put his head down, and
llio bo.ir would look at him with a pleased and grateful motion of ^
I he liead, answering tho growl by a grunt, ju.st as to say, “Thank
lou; very polite to eat tho green on^s and send mo the others.’*
Tins llruin understood, and h<‘ could boar it no longer; ho began
lo shak<' the tree violently, till the rod persbnons fell like a shower
around tho lioar; tlun there was a duet of growls and grunts—
angry mid terrific from tho bear above, denoting satisfaction and
pl( asure on the part of the boar below.

Gabriel had come in pursuit ofthe boar, but now he changed his
(lind, for considering the preseifl^ngry mood of Bruin, he was cer-
fain lo 1)0 attacked by him if discovered. As to going aw'ay,it was
a thing he would not think of, as long as his rifle was loaded; so
ho waited and wiatched, until the bear should give Mm an oppor-
i unity of uiniing at a vital part. This he w^aited fbr in vain, and,
on reflection, he determined to wound the bear; for, knowli^tbo
iiumour of the nnima), 1 m* felt almost positive it W'ould ptodnofe a
conflict between him and the boar, which the bear would attack in
his wrath. He fired: tho bear was evidently wounded, although
but slightly, and h 4 ) began roaring and scratching his nock in a
most furious manner, and looking vindictively at the boar, which,
at the report of tlio rifle, had merely raised his head for a moment,
and then resumed bis meal. Bruin was certainly persuaded that
tlio wound he had received had been inflicted by tho beast balow.
H(‘ made up his nflnd to punish him, and, to spare the trouble and
time of desc*ending, dropped from tlio trolk and rusbed upon tho
boar, which met him at once, and, notwithstanding BmUi's great
strength, he proved to him that a ten years’ old boar, with

iiJWt TBAV£t«S AUD ADVBSTUHES OY

fioven-Uich twslis, was a v<‘ry formidable anta#?onist. Bruin soon
felt tlie tusks of the boar ripping him upj ton or tu^olvo stromns of
blood wore rushing from his sidi'S, yet ho did not gi>o w|jy; ou tbo
contrary, he grow flcTcer and fioreer, and at last the boar was*
almost smothorod under the huge paws of liis adversary- 'fho
lastt'd a few minutes nuwe, ttu.* grunting and growling be¬
coming fainter and fainter, lill both combatants lay motit)nless.
Tliey were dead when Gabriel came to thorn; the bear liorriblj-
mangled, and the boar w ith overy bone of his body broken. Gabi'iel
filled his hat with the ptTsimons which were th^ cause of this tra¬
gedy, and returned to th(‘ camp for iielp and ammunUion.

Jfinn, Boono, and I resumed our journey, and alter a smart ride
of two hours we tutored upon a l)eaut'irul spot, called “M.iguet
Cove." This is one of tho groat turiosities of th(' Arkauias, and
there are few planters who do not visit it at least miee in their
IHes, eieu if tin y Iia\e to travel a dhtanee of out InindrtMl miles-

It is a small valley surr(»undeci hy rocky hills, one or two hun¬
dred feet high, and fenning a bt'It, in the shape ot a hor&c-shoe.
From tliese rocks How hundreds of sulphuric springs, sornt* boiling
and some cold, all poiu'ing into largo basins, vihkb their waters
h^ve dug out during their constant flow of so nniny centuries.

mineral spruigs are so i cry numerous in this part of the
coimtty, that they would scarcely be worth mentioning, witc it not
that in this valley, for more than a milo in eircumferenee, the
stones and rocks, which arc of a dull black colour, and v cry lu*avy,
are all magnetic.

It is a custom for every tisUor to b'Mug with him some pieces of
iron, to throw against the rocks* The appearance is very strange:
old hDrse>shoes, forks, knives, bars of iron, nails, and barrels of
pistols, arc hiinging from the predicting stones, the nails standing
upright as if they were growing. These pieces of iron hav e them¬
selves become very powerfully magnetic. I picked up a hurse-shue,
which I afterwards found lifted a bar of steel of tw p pohnds Ayi'ight.

Half**a*mUe from this singular spot dwelt another old pioneer, a
IViltmd of my companions, and at his cabin we stopped to pass tho
ni^ht* Onr host was only remarkable for his groat hospitality and
greatey taciturnity; he had alvyays lived in the wilds, quite alone,
4nd the only few words he would utter were incoherent. It ap¬
peared a« if his mind was fixed upon scenes of tlic past. In his
early life he had been one of the companions of the celebrated
pirate Ba Fitte, and after tho defence of New Orleans, ip which
the pirates played no inconsiderable part (they had the manage¬
ment of the ttftillery), he acceptf*d the free pardon of the president,
and fercing his way through the forests and swamps of Louisiana,
was never fie^rd of furi^ve of six years. Subsequently, circum-
Sfiances brought about an intimacy between him and my two com-
plmions, bnt, contrary to the habits of pioneers and trappers* hd

sroNstfiVB vjfiDtiiat'. 33fi

novor roviTtod to his former adventures, but always evaded the
subject.

There were mystc'rioiw rumours afloat about treasures which had
• b(‘eu burled by the pirates in Texas, known only to him; a tiling
not improbable, as the creeks, lagoons, and hays of that country
had always lieim a favouriti' resort ot these freebooters; but
nothing had ever l>con extracted from him relative to the question.
Ho was now living with an Indian woman of the Flat-heaii tribe,
by whom he had several children, and this was also a subject upon
which the western farmers had much to say.

Had the squaw been a (Veek, a CluTokce, or an Osage woman,
it would have created no surprise; but how' came he in possession
of a woman belonging to so di'.taut a tribe? ^Moreover, the squaw
lof)ked so j)roud, so imperious, so queenly;—^there was a mysteyy,
wl^’h ovoiy one was anxious, but unable to sol re.

We left our host early in the morning, and arrived at noon at the
liot springs, where Iwas to part company with my entertaining
(‘(mipanious.

I was, however, persuaded to remain till the next morning, as
Finn wished to give me a letter tbr a fri<*nd of his in South Mis¬
souri, Of tile hot springs of the Arkansas, I can give no hotter
description, than hy (pioting the following lines from a Little Book
newspaper:— ^

“ The warm springs are among the most interesting ouriosities of our
oountrj : thc'y are in groat numbers. One of tliem, the central one, emits a
last quantity of water, the ordinary temperature Is that of boiling water.
When the season is dry, and the volume of water somowhat diminished, thu
temperature of the water increases.

“ The waters arc remarkaltiy limpid and pure, and are used by the people
who resort there for health, for culniMry purposes. They hav® been analyaed,*
and exhibit no minoral propt>rtios lieyond common spring water. Their efli-
eacy, then-*for they are undoubhsUy ctHeaclous to many invalldes who resort
there -results fronitho shades of the adjacent mountains, and from the cool and
oxygenated mountain brees®; the uonvenience of warm and tepid bathing; the
novelty ot fresh and mountain sceneary, and the neemity of tempisrance, im-
lH>sed by the poverty of the country and the dlffleulty of procuring suji^es.
The coses in which tho waters are supposed to be eillcacious, are those of
rhemnatlc affeetion, general debility, (lysi>epsia, and cutaneous compiainfcs. At
a few yards lh>m the hot springs Is one strongly sulphuric and remarkable for
its coldness. In the wild and mountain scenery of this lonely region, there is
much of grandeur and novelty to fix the curiosity of the lover of nature."

Tho next morning I bade farewell to Finn and Boone* and set oflf
on my journey. I could not help feeling a strange sensation of
loneliness, as I passed hill after hill, and wood after wo(]id. It
seemed to me as if something was wrong; I talked to niyself* and
olten looked behind to see if any one waa cowing my way. Thi|
feeling, however, did not last long, and I soon learned that* west of
the j^ississippi, a nuui with a parse and a good horse must never

SSO TRAVEM AND ADVBNTUIIES or

truyel in thf' company of btrangeib#^ without he is <lt shous to lo i*
Hhcm and his life to boot.

I rode, v?ithont stopplll^^ the foj’t>-fi\c miles of dnarv roxl
wliioh leads from the hot bprimjs to Little lloek, and J an i\ ed in
tliat capital (‘arly at noon.

3|ll>rei^ers are constantly sisltiiv c\erv part of the tTuiccd
States, and j'et very fiw, if an}, have e\tr lisitcd tli<' Ark.nis.is.
They beem all to be frightened awaybvth^ numerous btorusof
Arkansas murdor->, %\ith huh a tourist is alnaj’-s etrt.iiii to b’
entertained on hoard one of the AIi‘-sisdpi)i <-te'rn-bo dib. Tn-
douhtedly th<J»e reports of mtirdort. and atror itios h u i bttu, as all
thingb else are in the United Siatts, nnwh i\ - crated, but none
can deny that the assires of Arkansas (ont.iiu moie cases of stali-
bihf' and shootliu; than ten of the otlur si d( s put top« th« r

T^le very day 1 arrived at Little Jto(‘k I h d an op port unit jv f
witnessing two or throe of the'-e Ai’kansas incuhtits, and also to
hear the < ominenfs made upon them Li'^lslaturc as then sit f nuj.
Two of the legiblators happened to be of a contrary opmuiii, and
soon abusisl each other. From words tluy caim to Won s, and one
shot the otiu r w lih one of t'olts rt v ult mg si\-h irrel pistols Tiob
event stopped legislative Inismess lor th it da v; the eorpse a as < .'ii'-
ried to the tavern when 1 had just armi d, and the innrcterer,
liavlng proeundbail lor two^lwusaiul dollais, I’tti .iwa} dm in*
the night, and nobody ever thought soai*i hin ^ for lem

The corpse provi^d to he a bonus for iny landlord, who had it
deposited in a room next to tin bar, and ok the news spreo^l, .ill the
male papulation of Little Roek c.ini in crowds to see with their
own eyes, and to gine their own op u.onof the c.ise over a bottle of
wine or a glass of whisky.

Being tiwd, T went to bed early, .'incl was jus* dti/ing, in spite of
the loud talking and bwearmg beIo.v,when I heard fn<' orsi\ shofs
fired in rapid suceession, and folio .v» tl by veils and s< reams. I got
up and stopped a m*gro girl, as she was running up stairs, a pie-
tnre of terror and despair.

“ What is tlie matter, Blaekcy?” said I, “ aio they shooting in
the bar ?**

^‘Oh, yes, Massa,” she answend, “they slioot teiTible Dr.
Francis say>, Dr. Grey is a blackguard; Dr. Grey says, Dr Franc is
is a mfiftan; Dr. Francis bhoots with big pistols and kills Dr.
Grey; Dr. Gtcy shoots with other pistolb and kills Dr. Francis.”

“WhatI" rexclaimed, “ after he was dead?”

“ Oh no, Mitssa, before ho was dead; they shoot together—pan,
pm, pan.”

I went dowB-stairs to osoorfcain the cirtmmstanoes attending this
double mardat. A eorofier’s inquest had been held upon the body
of the legislaftor killed in the morning, and the two surgeons, who
had both drunk freely at the bar, had quarrelh‘d about 1 he direction

MONSHSHa VlOIiBT.

which tho ball had 1 ikon. As^tlipy did not agree, they came to
wurds; from wtn’d, to blows; ending in the grand finale of shooting
each other.

I was so siel enrd and disgiistod with tlio events of one day, that
1 paid iny bill, sjddU'd my horno myself, and got a man tp ferry me
(nor the Arkansas river, a noble, broad, and rapid stream, on^the
sontlieni bank ol wliieli the capital is situated. I rode briskly for
n ‘^hort lioiir, and camped in the woods alon<s preferring their .silence
;m(l dreariiK ss to r( inaining to witness, under a roof, further geenos
ot blood«h(‘ I aiid murder.

North of tiic Arkansis rJMr, the population, though rough and
“uot bt'tter Ilian it sleadd b is less saugiilnary and much mora
hospitable; that is to say, a bindlord will show you civility for your
money, and in Batesiilh', a city (fifty hoases, I think) upon the
n<|^t hern bank ofthc White Kis (‘r,l found thirty generals, judges, and
majors, who eondi •,( (uded to show nr* every bar in the place,
liurchasing ^uDdry do^cn ^ ol Ilavannahi. and di’iuking sundry long
toasts in ict d w’inc, wliie h wjm* and tobacco, although ordered and
consumed by them selva's, tlc'y l^tt me to pay for, which I w,is
willin'' to do, as f vvio informed tliattli 'so gentlemen always refrain
Irom piving anything when n strangle is prc='cnt, from fear of
wounding his delic icy.

It was in Jkvti s\ ilU‘ that I became eiiUghtened aa to the western
paper currency, which was fortunate, as 1 purchased one hundred
and torty dollars in “ shin plasters,” as they call them, fbr an
English sovereign; and for my travoiling evpenses they answered
jnst as w(‘U. In tiio Wbit<* River ferry-boat 1 met with one of
thosi* itinerant Italian pUlars who arc toiiiid, I think, overywlicro
nmh r heaviai, si'lling ])ms, ti lalles, and badly-coloured engravings,
n presenting all tho various pa sages of William Teli’s history, and
tlH‘ combats during the “three day.s,” in 183). Although not a
refined companion, th* Genevese spoke Italian, aaid I was delighted
1 0 eon \ f fse in that sol 1 1 onguo, not a word of which 1 had spoken since
t he di'ath of Prim ' ^eravalle. I invited my companion to the princi¬
pal tav«‘rn,.aud call al at the bur for two tumblers of iced-mjnt julap.

“ ]]ow muchr asked ttom the bar-keoper.

“ Five dollars,” ausweri'd.

1 was quite thunderstruck, and, putting ray money back in my
pocket, I told him 1 would uot pay him at all. The man then
hi '(in to swear I was a quet‘r sort of a chap, and wondering how a
tdUh man could drink (t u biU’ and not pay for his liquor.

“ I ahvay.s pay,” 1 answered, “what otliers piy; but 1 will not
submit to such a swindling, and give five dollars for wdiat is Only
Worth twoiity-fivo cenis.”

The host then came to me, witli a smile.

“ Why, fair, we doift charge more to you lUau to otbors. Fiyo
dolIar.s in * shin plasters,’ or twenty-fivo cents in specie.”

' I2&6 T« \viui4» ANi> AoviGSt't’itJJS oi

All was tlitis cvplaiHcd, and the next morniiip: 1 •satisfied my hill
of twenty-two dollars with one dollar and twelve ceiits in silvei’-

This may appeal' vStranjre to the Enj?Ush readtT, who profera
boxik-notes to gold; but he must reflect that Enailami is not
ArkanSasfand that the Bank of ICngl.incl is not the “ Real Estate
Bank of Arkansas,” capital two millions of dollars.

Notwithstanding tlu^ grandeur of the last five words, I ha\c been
positively informed tliat tiie bank never possessed live dollars, and
had not bwm able to pay the poor Cincinnati engraver who nude
the notes. The merchants ol Little Rock, who had set up the bank,
were the usual purchasers of the ])roduee from tlie ffirreer; hut the
credit of the bank was so bad, that they w<‘ri‘ obliged to oiler thre<»
dollars Iti their notes for a bushel of wheat, which, in New lork,
commanded only eighty-four i-ents in speei

The farmer*', howcier, were as sharp as the merchants, ^id,
compelled to deal with them, they hit upon a good plan. The
ptineipal landholders of every eounty ass(*mbh*d, and agreed that
they would also have a larnier’s hank, and a f<*w months afterwards
the country w as inundatt'd w ith notes of siv-and-a-quarter, t wcdi e-
a-half, twenty-five, and fifty cents, with the following insc*npti<m:—
“We, the tis'eholders and tarmerb of such county, promise to pay
(so much) in Real Lstali Bank of Arkansas notes, hut n(»t under
the hum of five dollars.”

The bankers wtre caught in their own snares. Tluy were
obliged to accept th(‘ “ shin plasters" tor flu* goods in tin ir stotes,
with the ple.'ising persp*ci*ve of Inong paid hack with their own
notes, whicJ) made their taceh as do'f ml as the apol!u‘csir;> who wa^
obliged to swallow hi.s own pill .

OIIABTEK XXX VT.

Ebow BaU'Svflle to the southern Missouri border, the road con¬
tinues for a hundred miles, through a dreary solitude of rocky
mmmtaihs and pine forests, full of snakt‘s and a variety of game,
but without the smallest vestige of <>ivilizalion. There is not a
single blade of grass to he found, ('xceiit in the hollows, and these
are too swampy for a hor.se to venture upon: Happily, small clear
and limpid brooks are passed every hdf-hour, and 1 had had the
precaution to provide myself, at a farm, with a large bag of maize
fi>r my hofae. After all, we fared better than wo should have done
at the log hitfa, and my faithful steed, at all events, escaped the
“ring,” "What the “ring” Is, I will explain to the reader.

In these coantries, it always requires a whole day’s smart riding
^ go from otte farm to another; and when the traveller is a “raw
letter” or a “green one” (Arkaii-sas denomination for a stranger),
host employs all his cunning to ascertain if hi$ guest has anv

MoNSilstiit vioLics'l*. 13^9

money, as, If so, his object is tO'sdetain him as long iis he can. To
gain this information, although there are always at home ha!f-a-
dosm strong boys, to take the horses, he sends a pretty girl (a
' daughter, or a niece) to show you the stable and the maiae-store.
This nymph becomes the traveller’s attendant; she shows Idhi the
garden and the pigs, the strangers' bed-room, fee. The conse¬
quence is that the traveller becomes gallant, the girl insist upon
swashing his handkerchief and mending his jacket before he starts
tlie next morning, and by keeping constantly with him, and con¬
tinual conver8ati<jn, she is, generally speaking, able to find out
whether the traveller has money or not, and reports accordingly.

Having supped, slept, and breakfasted, ho pays his bill and asks
for Ins horse.

“ "iVhy, sir,” answers the host, “ something is wrong with tlie
anSgial—he is laino."

The traveller thinhs it is only a tritle; he starts, and discovers,
bt^fore he has made a mile, that his boast cannot possibly go on; so
he returns to the farm, and is there detained, for a week perhaps,
until his horse is fit to travel.

I "was once cheated in this very manner, and had no idea that I
liadbmi tricked; but, on leaving another farm on the following
day, I found my horse was again lame. Annoyed at having been
delayed so long, I detenninod to go on, in spite of my horse’s lame¬
ness. I travelled on for thn*e miles, till at last 1 met with an ^derly
man also on horseback. He stopped and surveyed me attentively,
and then addressed me:—

“ I see, youngster, you arc a green one.”

Now I was in uncommon bad temper that morning, and I an-
' wored his question with a “What do you mean, you old fool?”

“Nay, pardon me,” he resumed, “I would not insult a stranger.

1 am Governor Yell, of this state, and I see that some of my ‘clever
citizens * have l)een jdaying a trick upon you. If you allow me, I
>rill eure the lameness of your hor.se in two minutes.**

At tlie mention of his name, I knew I was speaking to a gentle¬
man. 1 apologized for my rough rejoinder, and the governor, dis¬
mounting, then explained to me the mystery of the “ring.” Just
above my horse’s hoof, and well concealed under the hah*, was a
stout silken thread, tied very tight; this being cut, the horse in a
moment, got rid of his lameness.

As the governor and I parted, he gave me this parental advice:—

“My dear young man, ’ said he, “I will give you a hint, which
will enable you to travel safely through the Arkansas. BeWirfl of
pretty girls and honest, clever people; never say you ajre travelling'
further than from the last city to the nearest, as a long journey
generally implies that you have cash; and, if possible, never put
your horse in a stable. Farewell."

The soil to the 4-vkansas is iMJcky luid mountsinot^ *w ac tq

240 TaAVEM A5»D ADVEWrORES OP

the wcstora l>oril('r of the stale, when you enter npon tlie j»reat
Amoriean dosert, which continuos to the other side of tho Cimar¬
ron, nearly <o the foot of the Cordilleras. The eastern portiotj of
Arkansas, which is watered by tho Mississippi, is an unknown
swamp, tor there tho ground is too soft even for the light-footed
Inditvn; and, I may say, that tho whole territory contained between
the Mis'sissippi and the St. Francis river is noiliing but a continued
river-bottom.

It is asserted, on tlr' authority of intelligent residents that tiu'
river bottoms of the St. rrancis were not subject to bo overflout d
previous to the earthquakes of 1811 and 1812, when anovtensiu'
tract in the valley of that ri\ er sunk to a considerable depth. Ac¬
cording to Stoddard, who know nothing of tho shocks of 1811,
earthquakes have been eomxnoa here from tho first settlement of
the country; he himself experienced several shocks at Kaskaj^Via,
in 1804, by which the soldiers stationxd there were arotised from
sleep, and tho buildings vvi‘re mucli shaken and disjoint ‘tl. Oscil¬
lations still occur W'lth such frequency as to be regai’dcd with
indifurence by the inhabitants who familiar!}'' call them shakes
But tho earthqu.dv(s ot 1811 and 1812, which were felt from New
England to New 0»deans, are tho only ours known to have left per¬
manent traces, although th<*re is every probability that this part of
the valley of the aiis^is&ippi has been much convulsed nl former
periods.

In 1812, the earth op^med in wide chasms, from which columns ot
water and sand burst forth; hills disappeared, and their sites were
oc<*upi<*d by lakes; tie' beds of tlu' lakes w»re raiaol, and their
waters llowed olf, leaving them dry; the coursis of the stream
vvero changed by the elevation <'f their beds and the falling ol iheit
banko; lor one whole hour the current of th” Mississijjpi was liinn d
backwards towards its .source, until its accumulated wafers wn.
able to break through tho barrier which had <lainmeJ tin m up,
boats were dashed on the banks, or suddenly l«ft dry in the deserlt
channel, or hurried Imekwards mid forw'ards wifh the surgin'
eddies; w Idle in the midst of these awful changes, electric hres, ai -
companieil by loud niniblings, Hashed through the air, whicli wa-,
darkened w ith clouds and vapour.

In some places, submerged forests and cane-brakes ari' still visi¬
ble at a great depth on tho bottom of lakes vvliich were then
formed. That the <‘auses of these convulsions were not local,
some have imagined, is evident enough from the fr't, that im
Azores, the West India Islands, and tIu* northern eo.ist of Houf'
America wefe unusually agitated at tho same lime, and the cities ul
Carjpacas, LaguajTa, and .som<‘ others, wt re totally desiroyed.

I had been advised not to stop at any house on tlie liordera, and
.iPOuin liave proGoi di d on to Missoui'i, bivouacking during the nighl,
^ad it no| been that tho rahiy soaswn had just comraonced* and k

I

MOKSIEUA VIOLET. 241

was far from pleasant to pass Ibo ni^fht osposofl 1 o the mojrt; terrific
showers of min tliat could be iinajjined. When I arrived upon the
St. Francis river, I found myself compelled, by the state of the
' sMather, to stop at the pirsou’s; I don't know what particular sect
be profossid to belons'to, but he was reputed to be the greatest
by})ocrite in the world, and the “smarb'st scoundrel” in the Ar-
Iciuisas.

My liorsi' was put into th<* stabl(‘, my saddle into the hall, and I
brought my saddb -bags into the sitting-room. Then, as usual, I
uenl to the well for a purification alter my day's ride. To my
a'-tonishinf'nt I found, on iny return, that my sa<ldle-bags had
aln‘ady disapi>earod. I had \n them jewels ami money to rather a
c'onsidi'rable amount for a person in my position, and J inquired of
a w Oman cooking in the next room w hat had become of them. She
an:^\ered she did not know, but that probably her father had put
them out of the way.

Iwaiti'd a longwliile, standing at the door, with np small anxiety,
till at last I pirceivcd tlie parson crossing .in Indian corn-field, and
coming tow'ards the liouse. 1 Avent to mi'Cl him, and asked what he
had done Avith my saddle-bags; to which question he answ’cred
angrily, he did not know what I m(*ant; that 1 had no saddle-baga
AAhen I came to his house; that he suspected I Avas a knoAving one,
but could not como round so old a fox as be Avas.

As 1 ) 3 ' that time 1 A\as perrectl 3 ' au fait to all Hie tricks of Ar¬
kansas smartn(‘ss, I returned to the hall, took my jiistolb from the
holsters, placed them in my belt, and, seizing m 3 ' rifle, 1 folloAved
his trail upon the soft gi’ouml of the fields. If le«l mo to a eorn-
house, and there, alter an hour’s searcli, I found my lost saddle¬
bags. I threw' them upon my bhouldcrs, and returned to the house
ust as a terrible .sUoAAcr had commenced. When Avithin fifteen
vards from the threshold, the parson, with his wile and daughter,
a pretty girl ot sixteen, in teai\s, came up to me to apologize. The
mothi'r deelai*cd the girl would be tlie death of her, and the parson
informed me, w itli groat humility, that his daughter, having entered
the room and seeing the saddle-bags, bad taken and bidden them,
believing that they belonged to her sweetheart, who was expected
on a A is it. Upon this, the girl cried most violontl 3 ’, saying she only
AAisliod to play a trick to Charley, flho a\ as an honest girl, and no
ihi(*f.

I thought proper to pretend to be satisfied with {hi.s explanation,
and ordi'nal my supper, and, shortly aftWAvards, to my great relief,
ni'w guests arrived; they aaiti' four Missourian i)]ant(‘rs, returning
Iiome from a bear-hunt in the .SAvamps of the St. Francis. One of
them Avas a Mr. Courtenay, to w'hom 1 had a letter from Captain
Finn, and, before the day had closed, 1 received a cordial invitation,
to go and stay Avith him for at least a week.

As he spoke ^'rouch, I told him, in that language, my saddlo-haa

r>

24S IKV\ t AM> i'D\LNTiii!r>, tn

adwuture; ho was n tt .virpvisisl, ns lu* wms aw.ir ' of Iho cli.iractor
of our host. 11 w'as arran^^vl that Air. lAnirtonay ami I should
«U»ep in a douhh^hoddod room on tho first floor, tho othor Inintors
w'ore accommoilatod in another part of the house. IJeloro rt'tjrinfif
for the nif^h^ they all went to \isit their horses, and the yonna:prl
took that opportunity to lisfht me to the room.

“Oh, sir,” she said to me, after she had eiosed the door, “pr.h
do not tell the other trfn<1lej*'. vOi,»t 1 did, or llio wtnildall .sav
that T am courtin'? (diarley, and my eharaeler would he lost.

“ Alark me,” re]>lied I, “I have .already told tlie story, and I
know the ('harley storj’ is nothiin? hut a what your tatVier
ordered vou to say. AVheii I went to th(^ eoru-lunise, the tracks 1
followed*were those made hy your father’s liea^j boots, .ind not hy
yopr light i>um])s and small feet. The pirson is a -y lllain; tell Itim
that; and if it were ntd too much trouhh’, J would summon
hefore some magistrate.”

The girl a])peared nmeh shocked, and 1 repented my harshness,
and was about to address htr more kindly, when she interrujited
me.

“ Spare me, sir." she said, “I kuow^ all; I am so unhappy, if I
had but a place to go to, where I could work lor bread, I iMtuld do
it in a minute, fiir here I am v<*ry, vert mi'.erihle."

At that moment the poor girl he.ird the toolst( of the hunters
returning from the .stable, and she quitted m" in haste.

When Mr. Courtenay entered the ro(»m, he told me he e\p *cted
that the jiarson was plannhig some new' hfujuity, for he luid seen
him just then crossing the rlier in a iug-out. As everything was
to be feared from the rascal, alter foe circumstance ot the saddle¬
bags, we resolved that we woul-l keep a watch. Wo dragged our
bods ne.ar the window', and laid down without undressing.

To pass away the time, we talked of Captain h’iim and of the
Texians. Mr. Courtenay related to me a cas" of a negro stealing
by the same (Tv'ucral John W<*ycr, of whom iny tclhiw-eompanion,
the parson, had already talked so much whil^we were travelling
in Texas. One winter, Air. (\mrlenay, returning Irom the east,
was stopped in A'incennes (Indiiuia) hy tlie depth of tin* snow,
..which for a few days rendered the ro.nis impassable. 'J’lien* he
saw a very fine breed of sheep, which he determined to introduce
upon his plantation; and hearing tliat the general would be coming
down the river in a large tilt boat as soon as the ice would permit,
he made an agreement w’ith )iim that he should bring a dozen of the
animaJts to the plantation, which stood a few mile.s below' the mouth
oftitte Ohio, on the other side of the Mississippi.

^^er made his bargain, and two mrmths afterwards delivered
the live stock, for which he receiv ed the price agreed upon. Then
he asked p 'mission to encamp upon -Mr. Courtenay’s land, as his
boat had received some very serious injury, which could pot be

MONmi-tTK ViOiXl'

243

r(’i)aii*e(l under live <jj' sIy days. Mr. Courtenay allowed Meyei*
and liis pc'oplo to take shelter in a brick bam, and ordered his
ne>?ro(‘s to furnish the boatmen Avith potatoes and vegetables of all
<|f seripUons.

'J'hroe or four days afterwards, he was astonished by several of
Ins slaA es iuforiniim him the general had been tampering w itli them,
aying they v\(*re looK to remain slaves when they could be as flroe
,is Avliite lien, and that if they would come down the river with
Mm he would take them to Tovas, wdiere ho vAOuld jiay them
^wcmly dollars .1 mouth for their labour

('oiirtenay ad\ist>d them, br all means, to seem to accede to the
la’ojmsitioji, and <ni\v them instructions as to liow they were to act,
!Ie then desjiatehed notes to some tweniy neighbours, requesting
them lo <'ome to the ]>lai)tatjon, and bring their wliips W'ilh them,
,1'- %)i(y Avmuld he n qiiired.

AUwer hai im.' ii paired his boat, came to return thanks, and to
annonnec his de]iarlure early on the follow ing morning. At eleven
o’clock, when he thought everybody iu the house was ash*ep, he
hastened, with two of his sons, to a lane, where be had made an
appointment v>ilh the negroes to nie<'t lam and accompany him to
his boat, which was ready to start. II<’ found half-a-dozcn of the
negroes, and ad\ ising them not to .speak before they were fairly off
the plantation, desired them to follow him to the boat; but, to his
.isfouishment, he soon discovered that the lane was occupied with
other n<‘gro(>s and white men, armed with the much-dreaded cow¬
hides. Ill' calk d out to his two sons to Hy, but it was too late.

'J'he gi'iHTal sMid his twm sons were undoubtisUy aeeu.stomed to
such disasters, for tlu'y showed am.izing devtority in taking advan-
ago of the angles of the fences to ('vade the lashes; but in spite of
II their dev ices tin y were cruelly punished, as they had nearly a
in.irter of a mill ol gauntlet to run through before they were <*lear
ot till' lane. In vain they groaned, and sw'ore, and prayed; the
'lows fell thicker and tluekex’, principally from th<‘ hands of the
iroi"-, who, h.iv ing now' and then tasted of the cow-hide, wore in
igli glee .it the idea of Hogging white men.

'file worsliiptul general and Ids dutiful sons at last arrived at
llu'ir boat, quite e.vhavistod, and almost fainting under the agony of
tlie well-applied laslies. Once on board, they cut their cable, and
pushed into the middli' of the stream; and although IMeyer had
tome down the river at Iciist ten times since, he always managed
to ])ass the plantation during night, and close to the bank of the
o}>posit(‘ hliore- 1 told Mr. Courtenay what I knevy myself about
Ceneral John Meyer; while 1 was talking, his attention was attrac-
tetl by a noise near the .stables, which were .situated at the bottom
'*1 a lane, before our windows. "We immediately suspected that
there Would be an attempt to steal our horses; so I handed my
ride to my companion, who posted himself in a position commanding

244 TRAVELS AND ADVEUTl’RES or

the lane, through which the thief or thiiM'c.s must necessarily
pass.

We waiter! thus in suspense for a few minutes, till Mr. Courtenay
desired me to take his place, saying—

**If any one passes the lane with any of our horses, shoot him; I
will go down myself and thrash the blackguard, for I suspwt the
parson will turn them into the swamps, where he is pretty certain
of recovering them afterwards.”

Saj'ing this, he advanced to the door, and was just putting his
hand upon the latch, when wc* heard a most territir* 37‘11, which was
followed by a neighing, wlihdx I recognised as that of my horse.
Taking our pistols and bowie-knives, wt hurried down the lane.

We found that our two horses, with a third, belonging to one of
thff himters, were out of the stable, and tied neck and tail, so as to
require only one person to lead them. The first one liad the br^'lle
on, and the last, which Avas mine, Avas in a state of excitement, os
if something unusual had happened to him. On eontinuing our
search, we found the bodj' of a jmung man, most horribly mangU'd,
the breast being cntirelj' open, and the heart and intestines hanging
outside.

It appeared that my faithful steed, Avhieh had already shOAvn, in
Texas, a great dislike to being taken aw'ay from me. had given the
thief the terrible kick, Avhicb had tbroAAm him ten or fil’tet'u yards,
as I have said, a mangled corpse. I!}- this time, the other hunters
came out to us; lights wore procured, and then avc learned that the
victim w'as the panson’s eldest son, n<‘wh’ married, and setthal on
the east side of the St. Francis. The parson was not long himself
in making his appearance; but lu' came from an opposite direc¬
tion to that of the hou.se, and he Avas dressed as on the ev(‘ning
before: he had evidently not Iwen to bed during that night.

As soon as he became aAAmre of the melancholy cirennistance, ho
raved and swore that he w^ould have the lives of the d—d French¬
man and his d—n horse; but Mr. Courtenay Avent to him, and
said—

“ Hold your tongue, miserable man! Sao your own work, for you
have caused this death. It was to fetch your son, to help you to
steal the horses, that you c;ro.ssed the river in the <lng-out. lie
silent, I say; you know me; look at your (ddest born, villain that
you are! May the chain of yoim liitnre misery be long, and the
last link of it the gibbet, which you deserve I"

The parson was silent, even av1k*u his sobbing wife reproached
him. “I warned thc'^, husband," sIuj said; “even now has this
come, and I fear that worse is still to <‘omo. ITnlucky A\'as the hour
we met; still more so when the child was bom;” and leaning
against the fence, she wept bitterly.

I will pass over the remainder of this nu'lancholy scene. Wi'
p-H felt for* the mother and the poor girl? who stood by with a look

MONSIEUa VIOLET.

245

of tk'spair. Saddling our horses, Mr. Courtenay and I resumed
our journey, the hunters remaining behind till the arrival of the
magistrate, whom we promised to send. To procure one, we were
obliged to quit the high road, and after a ride of several miles,
having su(:e<*eded in finding his house, -we awoke him, gave him the
necessary directiim.s, and at sunrise, forded the river.

C lIAPTEll XXXVII.

At last we arrived at the plantation of Mr. Courtenay: the house
was one of the very few huildings in the I'nited States in which
taste was displayed. A graceful portico, supported by columns;
large verandahs, sheltered hy jes.samine; and the garden so green
.so smiling, with its avenues of aeaeias, and live fences of holly
and locust, all recalled to my mind tlui scenes of my childhood in
Kurope. I]v<*rything was so neat and comfortable; the stables so
aijy, tlie dogs so well housed, and the slaves so good-humoured-
looking, so clean and well dressed.

Wtieu we d('sconded from our horses, a handsome lady appeared
at the portico, with joy and love beaming in her face, as five or six
beautiful cliildren, having at last perceived our arrival, left their
play to welcome and kiss their father. A lovely vision of youth
and beauty also made its appearance—one of those slender girls of
thr* south, a woman of fifteen year.s old, with her dark eyo-lashes
and lier stri'aming ebony Itair; slave.s of all ages—^mulattoes and
quadroon girls, old negroes and boy negroes, all calling together—
“Eh! Massa Courtenay, kill plenty boar, dare say; now plenty
grease for black family, good Massa Courtenay 1"

Add tf) all this, th<‘ dogs harking and the horses neighing, and
truly tin* whole tahleuu was one of unbounded afleetion and happi-
nes.s. I doxibt if, in all North America, there is another plantation
iMpial to that of jNIr. Courtenay.

I soon l)e<-ainc an inmate of the family, Jind for the first time
enjoyed the pleasures of highly-polished society. Mrs, Courtenay
was an admirable performer upon tlie harp; Mis.s Emma Courte¬
nay, her niece, was a delightful pianist; and my host liimself was
no mean amateur upon the tlutc. Our evenings w^ould pass quickly
awa 3 <', in reading Shakspeare, Corneille, Racine, Metastasio, or the
modern writers of English literature; after which we would remain
till the night had far advanced, enjoying the beautiful compositions
of Beethoven, Gluck, imd Mozart, or the brilliant overtures of
Donizetti, Bellini, and Meyerbeer.

Thus my time passed like a happy dream, and as from the rainy
sciason having just set in, all travelling was impossible, I remaiuedi
many weeks with my kind entertainers, the more willingly, that
the various trials 1 had undergone, had, at so early an age, c<hi-

5440 TUAVEtS AND ABVEKTIJUES Of

vinoed mo, that upon oai’th happiness was too scarce not to lx*
enjoyed when presented to you. Yet in tiio midst of pleasure f did
not forget the duty I owed to my tribe, ami I sent leKers to Joe
Smith, the Mormon loader at Nanvoo, that we might at once
enter into an arrangement. Xotwithstanding the had season, we
had some lew days of .sunshiiui, in which pretty Miss Emma and f
would take long ra!ii))1es in the woods; and sonictimes, 1(»o, my host
would invite the hunters of his neighhotjrliood, for a fieneral battue
against bears, dcor, and uild cats. Then ue would eiu auip out
under good tents, and during the ('M'liing, while smoking near our
blazing fires, I would hear storit'S which taught me more of lif<‘ in
the United States than ii’T had been residing tln*re for years.

“ woi qiti frec/ueittes^ je tc dirui qut tu es'' is the old French
proverb. Mr. Courtenay never clio.se liis c<»ttipanitui,s but among
the more intellectual classe.s of the society around him, aud^of
coui’se, these stories were not only well ttild, but interesting in tb<‘ir
subjects. Often the convers.itiou would fall upon the Mormons, and
poreeiviughow anxious I wa.s to learn anything alamt tliis new sect,
ra 3 * host introduced me to a vcry tahuileil gimthunan, wiio had every
information conueeted W'ith their history. From him T h-anu'd tie-
particulars which gave rise t<i MormuniMu, undoubtedly the most
eattraordinary imposition of the nineteculh century.*

There existed years agv* a Iknmeeticut man, uauu'd Solomon
Spalding, a relation of the one who invented tla* wooden initim-g.s.
By following him through hi.s cart-cr, tlu- reader will find him a
Yankee of the true stock. Jle appear.s at first as a law .student; tlu-ii
as a preacher, a increhaut, aiul a hankr"pt; atti-rwiirii.s he beeoim-s
a blacksmith in a small western villaci ; then a laud speculator and
a county schoolmaster; later still,lio becomes the owner ot an iron-
foundry; once more a banknipt; at Iasi, a writer and a drv-amer.

As might bo expected, he died a beggar somewhere iti Feimsyl-
vauia, little thinking that, by a singular coineidemse, one of Ids
productions (the “ Manuscript Found''), redeemed from oblivion by
a few rogues, would prove in their bruids a powerful weapon, and
be the basis of one of tbo most anomalous, yet jiDwerful secessions
which has ever been exjxu’ienced by the E.stablished Oliurcli,

We find, under the title of the “ Manuscript Found," an historical
romance of the first settlers (»f America, t-ndeavom-ing to show that
the American Indians are the deiMmdants of the Jews, or the hist
tribes. It gives a detailed account of their journey from Jerusalem,
by land and by sea, till they arrived in America, vuider the command
of Nephi and Lohi. They afterwards had quari’cls and contentions,
and separated into two di.stinct nations, one of which is ilenonii-
nated Kephites, and the other Lamanitt's,

Cruel and blQody wars ensued. In which great multitudes wens
slain. They buried their dead in large heaps, which caused the
mounds now so commonly found on the continent of America.

MONSiKtTK VIOIiET.

laiowlcd^o in th<; arts and sfrionces, and their civilization,
are dwelt upon, in order to account fbr all the remarkable ruins of
eitu'S and other eiiriQus antiquities, found in various parts of North
and .South America.

Solonuni Sp.ddiiig writes in the hiblic style, and commences
alrn(‘st every sentence with, “And it came to pass,**—“Now, it
came to pass.”

Althoufjli some powers of imafrinatiou .and a dojip’ee of scientific
iiilorniation are displayed Ihroui^hout the w'holo romance, it re-
ijiaine<l for several years unnoticed, on the shelves of Messrs.
I'attei’hOii atid Jjambdin, printci's, in Pittsbourg.

Many years ])assed, wlnm J^ambdin, the printer, having failed,
wislu'd to raise the wind by some hook .si>eculutiou. Looking over
the -various mmiuscripts tlieu in his possession, the “Manuscj'ipt
F'^nd,” veii.'i'abii* in its dust, w'as, upon examination, looked upon
as a g<ild iniiU', w hich would restore to .affluence the imfortunate^
piibUsher. But death suirnnoned Ijambdin away, and put an end
to the speculation, as far as his interests were conceimed.

Jj,ambdin liad iutrnsti'd the precious manuscript to liLs bosom
irieml, Sidney Kigdun, that he might embellish and alter it, as ho
might think expedieut. The publisher now dead, Higdon allowed
this vhef(J'mtvre to remain in his desk, liil, reflecting upon his pre¬
carious means, and u]>on his chances of obtaixung a future livelihood,
a siukimi idea struck him. Higdon well knew hi.s countrymen and
ttieir avidity for the marvellous; he resolved to give to the world
th(' “ ]\laiui,script Found,” not as a mere work of imagination or dis-
<|nisition, as its writer liad intended it to be, but as a new code of
religion, sent down to man, as of yore, on awful Rinai, the tables were
given unto Moses.

For some time Higdon workv'd very hard, studying the Jiiblc,
altering his book, and preaching every Sunday. As the reader may
easily imagine, our IJilde .student had Ix-en, a.s well as Spalding, a
Jack of all trades, having sucees.sively tilled the offices of attorney,
bur-keeper, clerk, inerehant, waiter, newspaper editor, preacher,
and, finally, a hanger-on .abour printing offices, where he could
alvva 3 ^s pick up some little Job in the way of proof correcting and
.so fort!).

'fo us this varb'ty of oeeupatiotis may appear very strange, but
ainuiig the unsetth'd .and ambitious population of tht‘ United States,
men at. the age of fifty have been, or at least have tried to be, every-
thiug, not in gradation, from tbo lowest up to tlie Iiigliest, but just
as it may bappni—doctor yesterday and w'aiter to-day—the Yankee
philosopher will to-morrow run for a seat in Ji'gLslature; if he fails,
he may turn a Methodist preacher, a jMormon, a land-speculator,
a member of the “Native Annadean Society,” or a mason—-that is
to say, a journeyman mason.

'J'wo words more upon Rigd<m, before wc leave him in his compora-

S46 TIIAV££.S AVD ADT£NTUH£S OF

tive insignificance! He is undoubtedly the father of Mormouisra,
and the author of the “ Golden Book” with the exception of a few'
subsequent alterations made by Joe Smith. It was easy for him,
from the first jjlanning of his intended imposture, to publicly dis¬
cuss, in the pulpit, many strange points of controversy, AvUich w'ero
eventually to become the corner-stones of the structure w hich he
wished to raise.

The no\ elty of the discussions was greedily received by many,
and, of course prepared them for that wdiieh Avas coming. Yet it
seems that Higdon .soon perceived the evils Avhieh his wild impos¬
ture would generate, and ho recoiled from his task, not because
there remained lurking in his breast some fcAv sparks of honesty,
but because he wanted courage; he Avas a scoundrel, but a timorous
one, and ahA'-ays in dread of the Penitentiary. 'NVith him INlorinon-
isiii Avas a mere money spi'culation, and he resolved to shelter l^oi-
self behind some fool av ho might bear the vaIioIo odium, while he
would reap a golden harvest, and quietly retire before the coming
of a storm But, as is often the ca.se, he reckoned Avithoiit his host;
for it so happened that, in searching for a tool of this description,
he found in Joe Smith one not jirecisely what he had calculated
upon. He wanted a compound of roguery and folly as his tool and
slave; Smith was a rogue and an unlettered man, but he was Avhat
Rigdon was not aAn-are of—a man of bold conception, full of courage
and mental euei’gy; one of those unprincipled, y<it lofty, aspiring
beings who, centuries past, would have succeeded as well as
Mahomet, and who has, cvtui in this more enlightened age, accom¬
plished tliat which is wonJerful to contemplate.

When it Avas too late to letracU liigdon perceived with dismay
that, instead of acquiring a silly bondsman, he had subjected him¬
self to a superior will; he Avas now himself a slave, bound by fear
and interest, his two great guides through life. Smith conse¬
quently became, instead of Rigdon, “the elect of God," and is now
at the head of thousands, a great religious and political leader.

From the same gentleman I also learned the histor}' of Joseph
Smith, and I Avill lay before the reader what, from various docu¬
ments,'I-have succeeded in collecting concerning this remarkable
impastor, together with a succint account of the rise and progress
of tliis sew seat, as it is a remarkable feature in the history of
siftUons.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

Mv readers have already been made acquainted with the history
of the “Book,” upon which the imposture of Mormonism has been
founded, and of the acquaintance which look place between Rigdon
and Joe Smith, whose career I shall now introduce.

The father of Joe was one of a numerous class of people who are

MON8IBtr» VIOBBT. 249

termed, in the west, “money dif?gers,” living a sort of vagrant life
imposing upon the credulous farmers by pretending that they know
»)f treasure concealed, and occasionally stealing horses and cattle.
Joseph Smith was the second .son, and a great favourite of his
father, who stated everywhere that Joe had that speeie.s of second
.sijjht, which enabled him to discover where treasure was hidden.
Joe did certainly turn out very smart, and it was prophesied by
the “old ones” that, provided lie was not hung, Joe would certainly
become a general, if lu* did not. gain the office of president of the
I'nited States. But Joe’s smartness was so great, that Palmyra,
where his fatluT usuall)’’ resided, became too small for the exercise
<»f his talents, and our hero set otf on his travels.

Some time afterwards Joe was again heard of. In one of his
rambles, he had gone to Harmony (PennsyU ania), and there formed
an^equaiutanc-e with a young w'oman. In the fall of 1826, being
then at l*lnladelj>hi:i, h" resolved to go and get married to her, but,
being do.stitulo of means, h(‘ now set his w-its to work to raise some
money and gel a recommendation, so as to obtain the fair one of
bis choice, lie went to a man named Lawrence, and stated that
he had di.scovered in Pennsylvania, on the bank of the Sus(juehanna
river, a very rich mine of silver, and if ho, Lawrence, would go
there with him, lie might have a share in the profits; that it was
near higli-water mark, and that they could put the silver into boats,
and take it dow n the river to Philadelphia, and dispose of it. Law¬
rence asked Joseph if he was not deceiving him ?

“ N(»," replied Joe, “ for I have been there and seen it with my
oAvn eyes; and if you do not find it so when we get there, I will
bind mysc'lf to be ynur servant for three years.”

By oaths, asseverations, and fair promi.-es, Lawrence was induced
to believe in Joe’s assertion, and agreed to go with him; and as
Joseph was out of money, Law'rence had to defray the whole
expi'iises of thojournev. ^Vhen tluy arrived at Harmony, Joseph
w'as .strongly recommended by Lawrence,, wdio wa.s well know’n to
111 *' parent.-, of the young woman; alter wliit.h they proceeded on
their journey to the silver mine, made a diligent .seiirch, and of
course found nothing. Thus liawz'i'iice had his trouble for bi,s
pains, and returned home with Ills pockets lighter than ivhen he
started, whilst honest Joe had not oril}'’ his expen.se.s paid, but a
good recommendation to tlie father of his fair one.

Jot‘ now^ proposed to marry the girl, but the parents vvere
opposed to the match. One day, when they happened to bo from
home, he took advantage of the opportunity, went off with her, and
the knot was tied.

Being still destitute of money, he now again set his wits to work,
to contrive to got back to Manchester, at that time his place of
residence, and he hit upon the following plan, which succeeded.
He went to an honest old Dutchman, by the name of Stowel, and

a-Mi TUAVliliS ASD ADVENTUUr.S Or

told him that he had discovmvd on the hunks of the ]?lack Kivei*,
in the village of Watertown (.Tefl'erson Countv, N. Y.), a oav(‘, in
which he found a bar of gold as big as his l(g, and about three or
four feet long; that he could not get it out alone on account of its
groat w'eight; and if Stow(‘l wouhl frank him and his will* to Man¬
chester (N. Y.), they would then go together to the ca ve, and Stowel
should sliare the prize with him. The good Diilolmum consented.

A short time after their arrival at Man<*hester, Stowel remiiuled
Jtiseph of his promise, but he eoully replied that Iws could not go
just then, as his wife was among strangers, and nould he very
lonesome if he quitted luT. Mr. Stowel was, like Mr. Lawnmce,
obliged to rhtnrn without anv remuneration, and with less nioiu’V

V fc'

than he came. I mention these two fn.aks of Joe Smith, as thi-y
explain the money-(ligg(n-’s .‘ivst<'rn of frainl.

It would hardly Im' believed tiiat, especially among the curpjing
Yankees, such “mine.s and treasures” .stories sliould lx* crislited;
but it is a peculiar feature hi the IT. S. that the inhabitants, .so
difficult to overreach in other matl<n-s, will gre<‘dily take the bait
when “mines" or “hidden treasure" are spoken of. In Missouri
and Wisconsin, immense beds of copper tn-e and h^ad hu\e bts'u
discovered in every direction. Thousands of j)oor, ign<»rant far¬
mers, emigrants from tho east, have turned digger.s, nuTu-r.s, arul
smelters. Many have aceiimulatod large fortune.s in the s])ac<‘ of;i
few years, and have returned “ wealthy gentlemen ” to their own
native states much to the a.stonishment of their neighbours.

Thus has tho “mining spirit” been kept alive, and impostors of
every variety have reapi-d their'harvest, by speculating upon tlh-
well-known avidity of the “people o< Ameri<“a!”

It was in the beginning of toat Joe, in a trip to Piftsbni’g,
became acquainted with Higdon. A great intimacy took place
betwixt them, and they paid eacli other altfuniate visits—Joe
coming to Pittsburg and Higdon going to the Su.sqiiehaniia, for
pleasure extairsions, at a friend's. It was also during the .same
year that the Smith family assumed a now character. In the
month of June, Josiqdi Smith, sen. went to a wealtliy, hut credulous
fanner, and relat<“d the tollowing story:—

“That .some years ago, a spirit had apjioared to Joe, his son,
andf in a vi.sion, informed him that in a certain place tlu‘i*e was a
record on plates of gold, and that, he was the iverson who mii.st
obtain tliem, and thi.s be must do in the following manner:—On the
22d of September, he must repair to the place, whore thesi; plates of
gold were deposited, dressed in black clothes, and riding on a black
horse; with a switch tail, and demand th<‘ plattis in a certjiin name.'
and, after obtaining them, he must iimnodiately go away, and
p.eltlier lay them down nor look behind him.”

V^'Tlie farmer gave credit to old Smith’s communication. He
accordingly fitted out Joseph with a suit of black clothes, and

MONSlEtill VlOl-JiX.

251

borrowed a black liorso. Joe (by liis own account) repaired to the
jjlace tif deposit, and doinaiidod tin* plates, which wt»rc in a stone*
unsealed, atul so n(*ar the surface of the ground that he could
see (uie end of it; raising the Ji<l up, he took out the plates of gold;
bat fearing sonu; one might discover where he got them, he laid
tln'iii down, to re]»]ace tlie top stoue as he had found it; when,
turning nmnd, to his .surprise, there w<Te no plates to he seen.
Ill* again opi'iied tlio box, and saw the plate.s iiv it; ho attempted
to take them out, but was not able. lie perceived in the box
.someU)ing like a toad, which gradually a.n.sunied the appearance of
a man, and struck him on the side of ld,s head. JSht being dLscou-
ragt.'d at trilles, Joe again stooped dov\u and attempted to take the
plates, when the .spirit struck him again, knocked him backwards
three or four n»d.s, and hurt him very mucli; recovtjring from hi.s
Irit^d, lus imiuired of the .s]>irit, "why he couhl not take the plates;
to which the spirit made r<‘ply, “ liecause you have not ol>pyed
}our orders." lie then imiuir(*d when he eould have them, and
w«s auuswen'd thus;—“Come one year Irom tins day, and bring
uith you 3 'our <ikle,st brothiT; then you shall have them."

“Thus .siiiril," .said the elder Joscpli Smitli, “was the spirit of
tin* ])roj)het who wrote this book, and who was sent to Jo« Smith,
jim. to make known these thing*) to Inm- Ileforo the expiration of
the year, the eldest brother dii'd; wdiic.li," the old man .said, “was
a decret; of Providence.” ill* also added—

“Joe went one year fri»m that day to demand the plates, and the
spirit inquired for his brother, and J<k* rcplioil that ho was dead.
'J'iio spirit th(‘u eominauded liirn to eomc again in one year from
th;it day, and bring a man witli him. On a.sking who might be tho
man, lie was answered that he would know him when he saw Itim.”

'rims, wliilc lligdou was concocting his Bible, and preacliing new
loetrincs, the Smitli family were pn>paring the mind.s of the people
tor tlu* ap]X'aranco of something wonderful; and altliough Joe
Smith was well known to ho a drunken vagabond, he sueecedod in
mspiririg, in hundreds of uneducated farmer.s. a tei'ling of awe
■•\hi(‘li Miey could not account for. I must here stop in my narra¬
tive, to make a few observations.

Xu the great cities of Kurope and America, civilization, educa^
tioii, and the active bustle ot every-day life, luive, to a great
degree, destroyed the siiper.stitious feeling.s so common among the
lower classes, and have eornplctely removeil the fear of <*vil geniuses,
goblins, and spirits. But such is not tho case in the western
country of the United StAites, on the borders of the immense forests,
and amidst tho wild and broken scenery of glens tuid luiUntains,
'vhero torrents roll with irnpetnosity tlu’ougli caves and cataracts;
nhore, deprived of the amusements and novelties which would
recreate ibis imagination, the farmer allow'.s his mind to be
oppressed with strange fancies, and though he may never avow

TBAVELS AND ADVENTUHES OF

the feeling, from the fear of not meeting witli s^mipathy, he broods
over it and is a slave to the wild phantasmagoria of his brain.
The principal cause of this is, the monotony and solitude of his
existence.

At these confines of civilization, the American is always a hunter,
and those who dwell on the smaller farms, at the edges of forests,
often depend, for tlieir animal food, upon tin* skill of tlie male
portion of their community. In the fall of the year, tho American
shoulders his rifie and goes alone into the wilds, to “ .see aftt*r his
pigs, horses, and cows." Constantly on the look-out for deer and
wild bees, he resorts to the most secluded spots, to sviamps, moun¬
tain ridges, or along the bushy windings of some cool .stream.
Constant views of nature in her grandeur, the utihroki'ii sik'iicc of
his wanderings, causes a depression of the mind, and, as his facul¬
ties of sigh*- and hearing are ever on the stretch, it allcct^lus
nervous system. He starts at the falling of a dried hiaf, and, with
a keen and painful sensation, he scrutinizes tho withered grass
before him, aware that at e-v ery step he may trample upon some ve¬
nomous and deadly reptile. Moreover, in his Avanderings h(‘ is often
pressed with hunger, and is exposed to a great deal of fatigue.

^‘Fast in the wilds, and you will dream of spirits,” is an Indian
axiom, and a very true one. If to the above we add, that his mind
is already prepared to receive the impro.ssions of the mvsterious
and marvellous, we cannot wonder at their becoming siij)<Ti,tltious.
As children, they imbibe a disposition for the marvcllou.s; during
the long evenings of winter, when the .snow is deep and the wild
wind roars through the trees, the old ju'ople ■win'«sm(»kc' their pipt;.s
near huge blazing logs, and relate to them some terrible adventure.
They speak of unearthlj’^ nois^js lu’ard near some caves, of hair¬
breadth escapes in encounters w ith evil spirits, under the form of
wild animals; and many will whisper that at such a time of night,
returning from some neighbouring market, they have met with the
evil one in the forest, in such and such a spot, wdiero tlie two roads
cross each other, or where the old oak has been blasted by
lightning.

The boy grows to manhood, but these family traditions arc
deeply engraved in his memory, and when alone, in the solitude,
near the “haunted places,” his morbid imagination embodies the
phantoms of his diseased brain. No wonder, th(>n, that such men
should tamely yield to the sui)erior will of one like Joe Sjuith, who,
to their knowledge, wanders alone by moonlight in the solitude of
forests, and who, in their firm belief, holds communication with
spirits another w orld. For, be it observed, that Smith possesses
all til© qualities and exercises all the tricks of the necromancers
during the middle ages. His speech is ambiguous, solemn, and
often incomprehensible—a great proof to the vulgar of his mystical
vocation.

MONSIEUil VIOLET.

Cattlo and liorsos, lost for many months, have been recovered
through the means of Joe, who, after an inward prayer, looked
through a sacred stone, “ the gift of God,” as he has asserted, and
discovered what he wished to know. We n(?ed not say that, while
the farmer was busy at home with his crop, Smith and his gang,
('V('r rfimbling in woods and glens, were w'ell acquainted with every
retired sh-ady spot, the usual abode of wdld as well as of tame ani¬
mals, who seek there, during the summer, a shelter again.st the hot
rays of the sun. Thus, notwithstanding his bad conduct. Smith
had spread his renown for hundreds of miles as that of a “ strange
man;*’ and wlu-n he started his new religion, and declared himself
“ a prophet of God,” tlie people did not wonder. Had Rigdon, or
any other, pia'sented himself, imstead of Joe, Mormonism would
)i( ver liave been e.stablishf'd; but in the performer of “ mystericnis
i1 seemed a natural consequence. As the stone we have
mentioned did mm-h in rai.sing Joe to his present high position, I
ill here insort an affidavit made relative to Joe Smith's obtaining
jwssession of this miraculous treasure:—

“Manchester, Ontario County, N. Y. 1833.

“ I became acquainted with tho Smith family, known os the authors of the
Mormon Jlildo. in tlie year 1820. At that time they were engaged in tho
money-digging busincHs, which they followed until the latter part of the season
of 1S27- In the year 13‘2J. 1 was engaged in digging a well; I employed Joe
Smith to assist me. After digging about twenty feet below the surface of the
earth, we discoverecl a singular-looking stone, which excited my curiosity. I
brought it to tiic top of the well, and as we were examining it, Joseph laid it in
the crown of his hat, and ttien put his face into the top of hie hat. It has l>een
^aid l)y Smith, tliat he gut tho stone from God, but thie is fttl.se.

“ Tlie no\t morning Joe came to me, .mid wished to obtain tho stone, alleging
that he could see in it; but 1 told liirn I did not wish to part with it, on account
of its being a curiosity, but would lend it. After obtaining the stone, he began
to publish abroad what wonders ho could discover by looking in it, and made
so mncli disturbance among the credulous part of the community, that 1 ordered
the stone to be returned to me again. lie had it in his possession about two years.
I believe, some time in 1825, Hiram Smith (.Joe's brotlier) came to me, and
wislieii to borrow tlic same stone, alleging that they wanted to accomplish some
Im-jiness of importance, which ‘ could not very well be done without the aid of
the stone.’ 1 told liim it was of no particular worth to me, but 1 mtafcly wished
to keep it as a curiosity, and if he would pledge me his word and honour that 1
should have it when called for, he might have it; which he did, and took the
stone. 1 til ought I could rely ou lus word at this time, as he had made a pro-
fts.sion of religion; but in this I was disappointed, for he disregarded boUi his
word and honour.

“ In the ^ of 1826, a friend called upon me, and wished to see that stone
about w'hi ,4i so much had been said; and 1 told him, if he would go with me
to Snath's (a distance of about half-a-mile), he might see it. To my surprise,
however, on asking Smith for the stone, he said, ‘ You cannot have it.’ I told
. him it belongcKl to mo; repeated to him the promise he had made me at the
time of obtaining tho stone; upon which ho faced me with a malignant look,
and said, ‘ J donU care who the devil belongs to ; you shall not have it.'

“ Col, NAnuM Hovard."

2b4

TKAVEIjS and advent hues (U-

( HAPTER

I Mi’ST pnss ov(‘r many <Vtails intcrosUiiij in thorn'iclvos, but too
lonp: to insort in this W(»rk. It must sutiico t(» say, that aft<'r a
time .To(‘ Smith stated that tu' had possession of the Rohlen piates,
and had reeeivod from heaven a pair of spt'ctaeles by means of wliieh
the unknown eharacters could bo dcoyplu'red by him. It may
appear strani^e that such absurd assertions should be credited, hut
the reader must call to mind the credence p:l\('n in this countrv’ to
.Toanna Southcote, and the infatuation disjilayed by her proselytes
to the very la<!t.

The origin of Mormonism deserves peculiar (‘Taminalion, p om
the success which has attcnd(’d th(‘ imposture, and the prospc-cts
which it has of becominir firmly established as a new <*reed. At
its first 01‘ganization, wiiich took ])lace at the time that tin* golden
plates were translating, which the reader may su]»pos(‘ notliinir
more than the contents of the book that Jligdon had obtaoicd jto^-
session of, and wdiich had been (►rigiiiaUy WTitten by H. Sjialding,
there were but six memhers of tlic rn-w cr<‘ed.

These first members, consisting nntstly of p(‘rsons who were cn-
gage<i with Smith in the translation of the plates, fortJnvilh applied
themselves with great zeal to building up the clmrcli. Their first
efforts were confined to WVstf'rnh'cw Yf>rkand Pennsylvania, wluTf*
they met with considerabl(‘ .sueoe.s.s. \ft('r a number of cmiverts
had been made, Smith receded a re\elation that he and all his
followers .should go to Kirkland, in Ohio, and tlu're take \ip their
abode. Many obeyed this command, selling their possessions, and
helping each other to settle on th<' spot designated. Tins i)laef‘ was
the head-quarters the Church and the residence of tlie ]»rophets
tilitil 18 / 18 ; but it do<‘s not appear that tliev ('ver regardi'd it ns a
permanent sKtlemcnt; for, in the Book of Covinmits, it is said, in
speaking of Kirkland, “I con.secratr' this land unto them for a little
season, until T, the Kord, provide for them to go borne."

In the spring of TB.H 1 , Sniitlt, Rlgdon, and otlu'rs declared them-
selve.s direejt^d by revelation to go on a .jourmw to Miss^mri, and
there the BoKkI was to show them the place of the New Jerusalem.
This joumejf w'as Jiccordingly taken, and when they arrived, a
revelation w’as received, pointing out the town of Tndtjpendoncci, in
Jackson county, as the central spot of the land of promise, where
they were directed to build a temple, &c. Shortly after their ro-
turti to Kirkland, a number of revelations were received, command¬
ing the saints throughout the country to purchase and settle in
this land of promise. Accordingly, many went and liegan there to
build up “Zion,” as they called it.

VlOLKT.

In iK'il, a cntJsofratiun linv ivab (.‘StaVAishcd in tlit* cAiuruh, by
r '^cL.tJoii- Jt u.'iK ijublislifd in the IJook of Covenants, in the fol-
lowinf' words:—“ Ff thou Invest mc", thou slialt keep my eommand-
t)i‘ids, and thou slialt eonseerate all thy properties unto me with a
cnvenaut and deed which cannot be broken.” This law, however,

I Iris lieen alt(*red since that time. As modified, it reads thus:—
“If thou loi'cst me, thou shalt si^rve and keep all of lU}’’ command-
jiients, and, behold thou shalt remember the poor, and consecrate
of thy properties for tlunr support that which thou hUrSt to impart
liiifo them, M'ith a covenant and a di'cd uliieh cannot be broken.”

In April, lH;i2, a firm was established by revelation, ostensibly
Cor ihe iM'uefit of tin* church, consisting of the principal members
in Kirkland and Imlependeuee. The members of this firm were
bound together by an oath and eovoiiant to manage the affairs of
the poor, and ;iil tilings pertaining to the church, both in Zibii
(.Mi^ouri) and in Shinikar (Kirkland). In Juik-, 1833, another re-
l elation was received to lay oft' Kii’klund in lots, and the proceeds
of the sale were to go to this firm. In 1K34 or I83j, the firm was
dii nled bv revidation, so that tliosi* in Kirklanil continued as one
Jinn, and those in Missouri as another. Jntho same revelation
they aro eorninandiMl to diiide the consecrated proiierty between
ihc individuals of the lirrn, which each separately were to manage
as stewards.

Pnuious to this (1833) a revelation was received to build a
li'tni>le, which was to be done Iw the consi'cratcd funds, which
were under the control of the firm. In erecting tlus building the
tinn involved itself in debt to a large amount; to meet which, in
tile revelation last mentioned, the toilowing appears:—“Inasmuch
.IS 3 0 are humble and faithfiil, and call on ray name, behold, I will
give 3 'ou the victory. I give unto vou a promise that you shall be
delivered this once ont of your bondage, inasmuch as you obtain a
chance to loan mono)' by hnndreds an<l thousands, even till you
iia\e obtained enough to deliver yourselves ont of bondage.” This
was a command to borrow monej', in order tq^^free themselves
iroin the debt that ojiprcssed them. Tlu'y made the attempt^ but
Jailed to get sufficient to meet their exigencies. This led to another
I'xpedient.

In 1H35, Smith, Higdon, and others, formed a mercantile Imuse,
and xnu-chased goods in Cleveland and in Buffalo to a very large
amount, on a credit of six months. In the fall, other Imuses were
formed, and goods purchased in the eastern cities to a still greater
amount. A great part of thejgoods of these houses went to pay the
w orkmen on the icmplo, ana many were sold on credit, so that
Avhen the notes came due the house was not able to meet them.
Smith, Higdon, and Co. then attempted to borrow raonoy, by
issuing their notes, payable at different periods after date. This
expedient not being effeciufd, the idea of a bank suggested itself,

ao(i TBAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF

Accordiugly, in 1837, the far-famed Kirkland bank >va.s put into
operation, without any charter.

This institution, by which so many have been swindled, was
formed after the follouin^ manner. Subscribers for stock were
allowed to pay the amount of their subscriptions in town lots, at
live or six times their real value; others paid in personal property
at a high valuation; and some paid the cash. When the notes were
first issued they w(Te current in the vicinity, and Smith took ad¬
vantage of tlicir credit to puy oif "with them the debts he and the
brethren had <!ontructed in tlie neighbotirhood for land and other
purchases. The eastern creditors, however, refused to take their
notes. This led to the expedient of exchanging them for the notes
of other banks.

Accordingly the (dders wert; sent off the country to barter Kirk-
lalid money, uhich the}’ did w ith great zeal, and continued the
operation until the notes were* not worth sixpence to the dollar. As
might have been expected, this institution exploded aft(‘r a few
months, involving Smith and his brethren in inextricable dllRcul-
tios. The consequt'nce w’as, that he and most of the members of
the church set off, in the spring of 1838, for Missouri, pur.sued by
their creditors, but to no effect.

We must now' fro back for a .short period to .state another circum¬
stance. In J83ti, an endowment meeting, or solemn assembly, w’as
called, to be held in the temple at Kirkland. It was given out that
those who were in attendance at the meeting siiould receive an en¬
dowment or blessing .similar to tb.it experienced b}’ the di.sciple.s of
Christ on flio day of Pente^tost. Wlum th<' day arrived, gi’cat
numbers convened from the diffeyent ehurelma in the (iountr}'.
They spent the day in fasting and pray(!r, and in washing and per¬
fuming their bodies; they also washed their fi'ct and anointed their
heads w’ith what they called holy oil, and pronounced blessings.

In the evening they met for the cndow'm''nt; the fa,st wa.s then
broken, by eating light wheat bread and drinking as much wine as
they thought proper. Smith knew w’oll how to infuse the sjfirit
which they expected to receive; so he encouraged the brethren to
dHnk freely, telling them that the wine w'fis consecrated, and would
not make them drunk. As may be supposed, they drank to some
purpose; after this, they began to prophesy, pronouncing blessings
upon their friends and cur.ses upon th'dr enemies; after which tlie
meeting adjourned.

We now return to Missouri. The Mormons who had settled in
and about Independence, in the year 1831, liaving Ix'eoine very ;ir-
rogant, claiming the land as their own, saying, the J.(Ord had given
it to them, and making the most haughty a.s8umptions, so exaspt'-
rated the old citizens, that a mob w'iis raised in 1833, and expelled
the whole iMormon body from the county. They tied to Clay
county, wheyo the citizens permitted them to live in quiet until

MONSlKtTR VI01,ET.

257

^vlion a mub spiiMt. bc^an to manift'st and the Mormons
rotiri'd to a voy thinly sc'ttlod district of tho c-ountry, where they
bi'^an to make iinpn)V<“ijients.

Tills district was, at tlie st'ssion of 1H3G-7 of the Missouri lef?is-
latnn', erected into a county, by the name of Caldwell, with Far-
West for its ca])ital. Here the Mormons remained in quiet until
ju^er the hank explosion in Kirkland, in 1638, when Smith,
Ili'>:dou, and otht'rs of the heads of the sect arrived. Shortly
after this, the Danile Society was organized, the object of which,
at first, was to driv(‘ the dissenters out of the county. Tlu* mcm-
bei's of this society were bound by an oath and eovenant, with the
l»('nalty of deatli attached to a breach of it, to defend the presidency
and each other unto death, right or wrong. Theyjiad their secret
“Nigns, by which they knew' each otlwT, either by day or night; and
v'er** divided into bands of tens aiifl fifties, with a captain over
i'ach band, and a general'over the whole. Alter this body wa.s
fornied, notice was given to several of the dis.sonters to leave tlio
county, and tiny w'orc tbri.'atened severely in ea.se of disobedience.
Till* (dh'ct ^tf I his w'as, that many of the (Usscnter.s loft: among these
v^eis- David Whltiner, John Whitmer, Jliram Page and Oliver Cow-
derv, all witiuvs.se.s to i!ic Book of Mox'inon; also JLyman Johnson,
one of tin' Iwclvc apostles.

The day alter Jolm Whitmer left his Innisc in Far-West, it was
taken iio.'.ses'nion of by Sidney liigdon. About this time, Higdon
preached his famous “ Salt Sermon.” Tin' text was—“ Ye are the
sail of the earth, but if the salt has lo.st its savour, wherewdth .shall
it be salted? It is thom‘''forth good lor nolhiug but to bo cast out,
;md to be trodden undt r foot of men.'’ Tie informed the Mormons
that the chiircli was the salt; that dis8<'nter.s were tin' salt that had
lost its llavour; and that they wc'i'i' HI orally to be trodden under
Ihe foot of the church until their bovw Is should gush out.

In (UK* of the meetings of the Danile band, one of the loaders in-
f<»rniod them that the tune xvas ned far dist.ant, when the I'ldersof
the elmre-h shoidd go forth to the world with swonls at their sidt^s,
>nnl thattlKjy would soon hav'o to go tlirough the stab* of Missouri,
and slay every man, woman, and child! They had it in contemphir-
lion at one time to projihesy a dn'adful pestilence in Missouri, and
llu'ji to poison the whalers of the stab*, to bring it about, and thus
to destroy the inhahitauts.

In the oarly part of the fall of tin* year 1836, the last disturbance
bt‘tw(>(‘h the Mormons and the .Missourians coimncmcod. It had its
"rigiu at an election in Davies count}', wdierc .some of the Mormons
liad located. A citizen of Davu'.s, in eonV(*r>at.ion with a Mormon,
I'cmarkcd that tin* Mormons all voted oneway: this was denied
with warmth; a violent contest ensued, when, at last, the Mormon
called the Missourian a liar. They came to blows, and the quarrel
was fol]ow(‘d b}' a row betweiui the Mormons and tlie Mi.ssourians.

R

258 TRAViELS ANi) ADVRRTURES OF

A day 6t two after this, Smith, with a company of men from Fai*-
West, w^ent into Davies county, for the purpose, as they said, of
quelling the mob; but when they arrive<l, the mob had dispersed.
The citizens of Davies gathered in their turn; however, the Mor¬
mons soon collected a force to the amount of five hundred men, and
compelled the citizens to retire; they fled, leaving the country de¬
sert^ for many miles around. At this time, the Mormons killed
between two and three himdred Ivogs, and a number of cattle; tool^
at least forty or fifty stands of honey, and at the same time de^
stroyed several fields of corn. The w^ord was given out, that the
Lord had consecrated, through the church, the spoils unto his host.

All this w'as done when they had plenty of their own, and pre¬
vious to the citizens in that section of the country taking anything
frqm them. They continued these depredations for near a wreck,
when the Clay County Militia was ordered out. The (*ontesf^as
a bloody one: suffice it to say, that, finally, Smith, Higdon, and
many others were taken, and, at a court of Inquiry, were remanded
over for trial. Rigdon was aftcrw'ards discharged on habeas eorpus,
and Smith and his comrades, after being in prison several months,
escaped from their guards, and reached Quincy, Illinois. The
Mormons had been before ordered to leave the slate, by dirt'Ction
of the governor, and many had r(‘tired to Illinois previous to Smith’s
arrival.

The Mormons, as a body, arrived in Dlinois in the early part of
the year 1839, in a state of groat destitution and WTidchednoss.
Their condition, with their tales of persecutions and privations,
wrought powerfully upon the sympathi js of the citizens, and caused
them to be’ received with the greatest hospit;ility and kindness.
After the arrival of Smith, the great it part, of them settled at Com¬
merce, situated upon the Mississij)pi rii ^r, at the lower rapids, just
opposite the entrance of the riv<T Desmoines, a sit<* equal in beauty
to any on the river. Here they began to btiild, and in the short
time of four years they have raised a city. At first., as w'as belbre
said, cm account bf their former sufferings, and also from the great
political power wdiich they possessed, from their unity, they were
treated by the citizens of Illinois wdth great respect; but subse¬
quent events have turned the tide of feeling against them.

In the winter of 1840, they applied to the legislature of the state
for several charters; one for the city of Nauvoo, the name Smith
had ^^ven to the tmi^ of Ct)romerc(i; one for the Nauvoo legion, a
military body; ©ne for manufacturing purposes, and one for the
Nauvoo .University. The privileges which they asked for were very
ext^sive, and such was the desire to secure their political supiwrt,
that all WOTe granted for the mere asking; indeed, the loaders of
the Ameriomi l€|gislature seemed to vie with each other in syco¬
phancy toward.s this body of fanatical strangers, so anxious was
each party to do them some favour that would secure their grati-

lltOJ4l^lEU& VIOLET. ^9

tUtlo. Tldfl tomled to produce jealousy in the minds of the neigh-
l)onrmg citizens, and 1‘ears were expressed lest a body so npiteil
religiously and politically, might become dangerous to liberal insti¬
tutions.

The jNformons had at every election voted in a body with their
leaders; this alone made them formidable. Tlio legion of Mormons
had been amply supplietl Avith arms by the state, and the whole
body was under the strictest military cliscipline. These facts, to¬
gether with complaints similar to those which wore made in Mis¬
souri, tended to arouse a strong feeding against them, and at last,
in the early part of the summer of 1841, the citizens of Illinois
organized a strong force in opposition; the Mormons were beaten
in the contest. 'Flie disposition now manifested by the citizens,
appears to lo act njmn the defensive, but at all hazards to maip-
taii> (|heir rights.

As regards tlu^ pecuniary traivsactions of the Mormons since they
have been in Illinois, Smith still uses his poAver for his oAvn benefit.
Ilis present arrangements are to purchase land at a low rate, lay
it ofl'into town lots, Avhich 4^ sells to his followers at a high price;
thus lots that scar<.*cly cost him a dollar, are frequently sold for a
thousand. lie has raised several toAAiis in this manner, both in
Illinois and in loway.

During the last year, he has made two proclamations to his fol-
loAvers abroad, to econe and settle in the county of Hancock. These
proclamations have been obeyed to a great extent, and, strange to
say, hundreds luivo been flocking in from tin* great manufacturing
cities of England. What is to be the result of all this, it is impos¬
sible to tell; but one thing is certain, that, in a political point of
view, the INTormons arc already powerlul, and that the object of
Smith is evidently to collect all his followers into one focus, and
thus concentrate all his power and Av«',altli.

The designs of Smith and his coadjutors, at the time of the first
publication of the Book of Mormon, was, doubtlessly, nothing more
than pecuniary aggrandizement. VTe do not believe they expected
at that time that so many could OA-^er be duped to be converted;
when, however, the delusion began to spread, the publishers saw-^
the door opened not only for wealth, but also for extensive
power, and their history throughout shows that they have not been
remiss in their efforts to acquire both. The extent of their desires
is now by no means limited, for their writings and actions show a
design to pursue the same path, and attain the same end by the
same means, as did Mahomet. The idea of a second Mahomet
arising in the nineteeth century may excite a smile, but when we
consider the steps now taken by the Mormons to concentrate their
numbers, and their ultimate design to unite themselves Vrith the
Indians, it will not be at all surprising, if scenes unheard of since
the days of feudalism should soon be re-ena(<ted.

260 TEA-VEtS AWr> ADVENTITBES OV

I will hove submit to my roadors a loiter diri-otod to ]\r»*. (^)Ur-
tenay, in 1842, by a superior officer of the United States artilhTv.

“ Yesterday (July the lOth) was a great day among the Mormons; their
legion, to the number of three thousand men, w'as reviewed by (lenerals Smith,
Bonnet, and others, and certainly ntade a vei’y noble and im}x>8ing appearance;
the evolndons of the troops coinmandod by J oc would do honour to any body
of regular soldiers in Kngland, France, or Prussia. "Vtliat does this mean ?
Why this exact discipline of the Mormon corps ? Do tliey intend to conquer
Missouri, Illinois, Mexico ? It is true they ore part of tho militia of the state
of Illinois, by the charter of their legion, but then there are no troops in the
States like them in ix>int of discipline and enthusiasm; atid led on by ambitious
and talented officers, what may not be effected by them ?~perhaps the subver¬
sion of the eonatitution of iiie United States; and if this should be considered
too great a task, foreign conquest will most certainly be attempted. The
northern provinces of Mexico will fall into their hands, even if Texas should
first take possession of them.

These Mormons arc accuimulating, like a sirow-ball rolling down an inclined
plane. Tliey are also enrolling among tlieir officers some of the first talfRt in
the country’, by titles Mildi they give and by money which they can command.
They have ap|>ointed Captain Henry Bennet, late of the Ignited States army,
inKpector-gencral of their legion, and he is commissioned as such by Governor
Carlin. This gentleman is known to he well skilled in fortification, gnnnerj,
and military engineering generally; and T am^wsured that lie is roceiiing regu¬
lar pay, derived from tho tithing of this warlike people. I have swn hi.s plan’i
for fortifying Nauvoo, which arc equal to any of Vauban’s.

General .fohn C. Bennet (a New Kngland man), is the prophet’s great gnn.
They call him, though a man of diminutive stature, the ‘ forty-two pounder,’
He might have applied his talents in a more honourable cause; but 1 am assured
that he is well paid for the important services he is rendering this people, or, I
should rather say, rendering the pmidiet. This gentleman exhibits the highest
degree of field militai'y talent (ilcld tactics), ’uiitod witli extensive learning.
Ho may yet become dangduus to tbo states, lie was quarter-mastcr-general of
the state of lUiuois, and, at another time, a professor in the Eric university.
It will, therefore, be seen that nothing hut a high price could have se(.’urefl him
to these fanatics. Only a part of tlioiv officers and professors arc Mormons;
Imtthen they arc united by a cominou interest, and will act Ingcther on main
points to a man. Those who are not Mormons when tliey cenne here, very
soon become go, either from interest or conviction.

“ The Smiths are not without talent: Joe, the chief, is a noble-looking M*
Iow~a Mahomet every inch of liiin; tho post-master, Sidney Higdon, is a law¬
yer, a philosopher, and a <.aint. The other generals are xilso men of talent, and
some of them men of le;trntng. I have no doubt they are alt brave, as they are
most unquestionably ambitious, and the tendency of their' religious creed is to
annihilate all other sects. Wc may, tiiereforc, see the time whon this gathering
host of religious fanatics will moke this country shake to its centre. A western
empire is certain. Ecclesiastical history presents no parallel to this people,
inasmuch aa they are estaldislilng their religion on a learned basis. In their
college, they teach all tlio sciences, with Latin, Greek, Hebrew, French, Italian,
and Spanish. The mathcmatfcal department is under on extremely able pro-
fe'^sor, of the name,'of Pratt; and a professor of Trinity College, Dublin, Is pre¬
sident of tlieir university.

“ I arrived ther^ incog, on the 1st instant, and from the great preparations
for the military parade,'wa« induced to stay to gee the tum-out, which, I confess,
haa astonished and filled me with fears for the future consequences. The Mor-
mohs, it is true, ari) now peaceable, but the lion is asleep. Take care and don't
rOHiehim.

261

“ The city of Nauvoo oonttdns about fifteen thou<3iuirl souls, and is rapidly
iMcreasiiig. It is well laid out, and the nuuniclpol affairs appear to be well
condueted The adjoining country Is a beautiful prairie. Who will say that
tlie Mornion prophet Is not among the great spirits of the age ?

“ The Mormons number, in ICuropo and America, about one hundred and
fifty tliousand, and are constantly pouring into Nauvoo and tilie neighbouring
country. There are, probably, in and about this city, at a short distance from
the river, not far from thii*ty thousand of these warlike fanatics, and it is but a
year sinco they have settled in the Illinois.”

CHAPTliR XL.

AVhilb I was at Mr. Couvlonay's plantation I had a piuithcr ad¬
venture, a eireumstanee which, in itself, would by scarcely w'ortli
nicntionin#:?, vvern it not that this fioreo animal n as thought to ha^e
ont'vit'ly loft the country for more than ttve^ity years For seviTal
day.s there liad boon a rapid diminution among the tui*keys, lambs,
und young pigs in the neighbourhood, and we had unsuccessfiiUy
beaten the briars and canebrakos, expecting at every moment to
Ihll in with some largo tiger-cat, which had strayed from the
Koutheni lirake.s. After much fruitless labom*, Mr. Courtenay
came to the conclusion that a gang oi‘negi’o marroons were hanging
about, and be ordered that a watch .should, for the future, be kept
every night.

It happened that the whole family was one daj' invited to a wed¬
ding on the other side of the river. Not hav iug any clothes fit for a
l)arty, I remained at home, and at mid-dny started on horseback
alone, with all the dogs, for a battue. The day was .sultry, although
w indy; as the roar of the wind in the canes prevented me from
hearing the barking of the dogs. Having arrived at one of our for¬
mer hunting camping pla<*c.s, fifteen miles from the house, I threw
myself upon the ground, and allowed my horse to graze. I had
.scarcely been half-an-hour occupied m smoking ray pipe, wlien all
the dogs, in full cry, broke from the briars, and rushed into the
eanebrakes, passing me at a distance of tliirty yards. I knew it
was neither bear nor deer that they were running after, and as I
had observed a path through the cancs, I leaped upon my saddle,
and followed the chase, wondering what it could be, as, had tlie
animal been any of the smaller feline species, it would have kept to
the briars, where dogs have never the least ohanco against them*

I rode briskly till I arrived at a lai’ge cyprcBB swamp, on the
other side of wliieh I could perceive throsigh the openings another
canebrake, higher and considerably thicker. I fastemed my horse,
giving liim the whole lengtli of the lasso, to allow him to browse
upon the young leaves of the cane.s, and with my bowie knife and
rifle entered the swamp, following the trail of the dogs. When I
came to the other canebrake, I heard tlio pack before me barking
most furiously, and evidently at bay. I could only bo directed by

262 XliAV£L3 ADV£NXUU1£S OF

the noise, as it was nnpossihlo for me to soo anything; so high and
thick were the cancs, that I was obliged to open a way with mv
knife, and it was witJi much trouble and fatigue that I arrived
within twenty 3 "ards of the dogs. I knew that 1 was once more
approachhig a swamp, for the canes wore becoming thinner; raising
my eyes, I perceived that I was in the vicinitj’’ of a largo cotton
tree, at the foot of which probably the dogs were standing. Yet 1
could not see thorn, and I began to examine witli car€! the upper
limbs of the trtM3, to ascertain if an}’- tiger-cat had lodged itself ui>ou
some of the'forks; but there was nothing that I could discover.
Cutting the cancs on the left ajid the right, 1 advanced ten yards
more, when to iny surprise I perceived, thirty feet above me, a
large panther embracing the trunk of a tree with its huge paws,
and looking angrily below at Ihi'i dogs.

*1 would have retired, but I dared not, as I feared that tliojicast
noise would-attract the atttnition of the animal, who would spring
upon me from its elevated position. The dogo barked louder mid
louder; twice I raised my rifle, but did not lire, iny nerves were
too much agitated, and my arms .shook. At last I ri*gained my
self-command, and reflecting that ann^ng the pack t here wen* some
dogs almost a match for the terrible animal, I rested my ritle upon
the limb of one of the heavy canes, and fired: my aim was true,
the brute fell mortally wcumded, though not dead; half of the dogs
w'ere upon it in a moment, but shaking them off, the animal attemp¬
ted to re-asce.nd the ti'ee. The effort, however, was above its
strength, and after two usec’ss springs, it att(^mj)ted to slip away.
At that moment the larger dogs .spra.ig upon the animal, whicli
could struggle no longer, as life was ebbing fast with the stream of
blood. jEre I had time to reload njy rifle, it was dead.

■ When 1 approached, all the dogs wore upon the animal, except a
fierce little black bitch, generally the leader of the pack; 1 saw' ker
dart through the canes with her nose oii the ground, and her tail
hanging low. The panther was a female, vcit" lean, and of the
largest size; by her dugs I laiew she had a cub which could not be
off, and I tried to induce the pack to follow the bitch, but they
were all too busy in tearing and ilrinking the blood of the victim,
and it w’as not safe to use force with them. For at least te,u
minutes I stood contemplating them, waiting till they would be
tired. All at once I hoard a bark, a growl, and a plaintive moan.
I thought at first that the cub had been discovered, but as the dogs
started at full speed, following the cha.se for more than twenty
minutes, I soon became convinced that it must be some new game,
either a boar or a boar. I followed,- but had not gone fifty steps,
when a powerful rushing through the canes made me aware that
the ^imal pursued liad turned back on its trail, and twenty yards
before me, I perceived the black bitch deafl, and horribly mangled.
I was going up to her, when the rushing came nearer and nearer;

MONSli:UA ViOliliT. ^3

I had just time to throw myself behind a small patch of briars,
before another panther burst out from the canebrakes.

I had never seen Ijeforo so tremendous, and at the same time, so
majestic and so beautiful an animal, as with a long and light spring
it broke out of the canes. It was a male; his jaws were covered
with foam aud hlood; his tail was lashing through the air, and at
times ho lookwl steadily behind, as if uncertain if he would run or
fight Ids pursuers. At last his eyes were directed to the spot where
the bitch lay dt'ad, and with a single bound he was again upon the
body, and rolled it under his paws till it had lost all shape. As
the furious animal stood thus twenty yards before me, I could have
firod, but dared not to do .so, while the dogs were so fax off. How¬
ever, they soon emerged from the brake, aud rushed forward. A
spirited young pup, a little a-head of the others, was immediately
crushed by his paw, and making a few bounds towards a largo t^ee,
he 'Climbed to the height of twenty feet, where ho remained, answer¬
ing to the cries of the dogs with a growl as loud as thunder.

I fired, ajid thi.s time tliere was no struggle.. My ball had pene¬
trated througli the eye to the brain, yet the brute in its death
struggle still clung on.

At last the claws relaxed from thefr liold, and it fell down a
ponderous mas^tcrrible still in death.

The sun had already set, and not -wislung to lose any time in
skinning the animal, 1 merely cut off its long tail, which I secured
as a trophy round my waist. My adventures, however, were not
yet termioat('d, for while I was crossing the short width of cane-
brake which was bcitweeu me and wlu're the shc-panther laid dead,
the dogs again gave tongue, aud m less than three minutes, had
tracked another animal. Night was coming on pretty fast, 4«id I
was beginning to be alarmed. TUI now I had been suceossfol each
time, having destroyed with a single ball, a terrible enemy, whom
even the boldest hunters fear to attack alone; but should I have
the same good luck in a third encounter ? It w'as more than I could
expect, especially as the darkness w ould render it more difficult to
take a certain aim. I therefore allowed the dogs to bark as much
as they pleased, and forced my way to my first victim, the tail of
which I also severed, as a proof of my prowess. It, how*cver,
occurred to me that if there w'ere nmny more panthers in the cover,
it would be very unsafe to return alone to where I had left my
horse. I therefore made sure that my rifle was in good order, and
proceeded towards the place where the dogs were still baying.
There I beheld another panther, but this time it w^as a sport
tended by any danger, for the animal was a very young cub, who
had taken refuge fifteen feet from tlic ground upon a tree which had
been struck by lightning, and broken off about three yards from its
roots. The animal was on the broken part which had its sumoUt
entangled in the lower branches of anotlier tree,

2<>4 TltAViJIiB AND AWVKN'njllBtJ OSf

It was truly a pretty sight, as the little auimal’s tail, hanging
down, served as a point de mire to all the dogs, who were jumping
up to catch it. The cub was delighted, mewing with high glee,
sometimes running up, sometimes down, just to invito his plaj"-
fellows to come to him. I felt great reluctance to- kill so graceful
and playful an animal, but it became a necessity, as no ciid<^avour.s
of mine could have foreetl the dogs to leave it, I shot him, and
tying him round my neck, I now began to seek W'ith some anxiety
for the plac<^ where I had left my liorse.

There is but little twilight in Ameriea, in the spring of the year
especially; great was iny hurrjs and consequently less was my
speed, 1 lost my trail, bogged myself in a swamp, tore my hands
and face with the briars, and after an hour of severe fatigue, at,
last heard my horse, who was impatient at being left alone, neighing
loudly. Though my distance to the house W'as only eighteen miles
and the road quite safe, I contrived to lose uiyself tlu'oe or ftur
times, till, ai desespoir^ I threw the bridle on my horse's aech,
trusting to his instinct to extricate me from my ditficultics.

It W'^as nearly midnight when I approaehtH.1 tin* back lences of
JMr Courtena 3 '’s plantation, and I wondered very much at seeing
torches glarmg in every direction. I galloped rapidly through the
lane, and learned from a negro that the family liM long returned
bonus and that supper iiad been, as usual, servedlu eight o’clock;
that they had been anxiously w'aiting for me, and that Mr. Courte-
; nay, fearing some accident had happened, had resolved to go himself
in search of me with the major portion of his negroes. Leaving
my horse to the ciire of the slave, 1 ran f >\vards the house, whtre
the dogs had already announced my arrh al. The family camc! under
the portico to welcome me, and kimnltaneously asked me what could
have detained me so long. “ I have caught the r(»!)bers,” replied J,
approaching the group; “1 have killed them, and lost two dugs:
here are ray spoha vpimaJ*

My host %vas thunderstruck; he was too much of a hunter not to
be able to estimate the size of the auimalfi by the tokens I hod
brought with me, and he had believed tiiat for the last twenty or
thirty years, not one of these terrible animals was actually living
in the country. The fact was so very remarkable, that he insisted
on going liimself that very night with his negroes to sldn the
animals; and after a hast}' meal, he Icl’t us to fulfil his intentions.
Relating my adventures to my kind hostc'ss and her niece, 1 had the
satisfaction of feeling that ray narrative excited emotions which
could only ar|si^ from a strong interest in my w'elfaro.

This panther story got wind, and nothing could convince the
neighbouring farmers but the very sight of the skins. All the
western newspapers related the matter, and for two itioiiths at
I was quite a “lion.”

^, A few days after that adventui-e, the Caroline, the largest and

MuMSlBUli vxoust. ^6

J

finest stoam-boat upon tho Mississippi* struck a snag in coming
down tho stream, and sank immediately. The river, however,
being very low, the upper decks remained above water, and help
cioming down from the neighbouring plantations, all the passengers
were soon brought on .shore without any loss of life. Three hun¬
dred sheep, one hundred hogs, eighty cows, and twelve horses, were
left to their fate, and it was a painful sight to witness the efforts of
the poor brutes struggling against the powerful current and looking
towards the people on shore, as if to implore for help.

Only one pig, two cows, and five horses, ever reached the bank
of the river, many disappt^arhig under the repeated attacks of the
gar-fish and other monsters,-and the remainder carried by tho
stream t.o feed tho alligators and the caw anas of the south. Hut
very ftnv objects on board were insured, and hxmdceds of hogsheads
f)f ISIissouri tobacco and barrels of Keiitneky Hour were sevt'ral
daS^ afte rwards pick;^*d up by the Arkansas and Ttame.SsSee wreckers.
Articles Ihu.s lost by shipwi’eck upon the Mississippi are seldom
retdiiinu'd, as the principal owners of the goods, on hearing the
news, generally collect all th<' property which they <!an, run away,
chaugti t heir names, and enter uj ion new speculations in another state.

Among the passengers on board, Mr. (lourtenay recognised several
of Ills friends, yjrliom he directly invited into the mansion, while
temporary sheds were (‘roctod for the others, till some steam-boat
should pass and take them off. So sudden had been tlv' catastrophe,
that no luggage of any kind had been saved, and several English¬
men, travelling to purchase cotton and minerais, suflered very
serious lo.ss. As to the Americans them.selves, though they com¬
plained ver}' loudly, vowing they would bring an action against the
river, the steamboat.s, against every boat and everything, for I don’t
know how' many millions of dollars, their losses were very trifling,
as it is tho custom for a man in the Wt‘stern States to carry aU his
inoiioy in his x)ocket-book, and his pocket-book in his i)ocket; as
to luggage, he never has any exeei>t a small valise, two feet long, in
^vhich are contained a shirt, t wo bosoms, tlireo frills, a razor, and
a brush, whicli may serve for his head, clothing, boots, and perhaps
teeth.

It was amusing to hear all tho comx)laints that were made, and to
enumerate th(‘ sums which were stati'd to have boon lost; there
was not one among the t^a^udle^s, even among those who had taken
a deck-passage, who had not lost from ten to fifty thousand dollars,
with which lu‘ was going to purchase a cotton plantation, a steam¬
boat, or a whole cargo of Havannah cigars. What made it more
ridiculous was the facility with which everybody found a witness
to certify his loss. “1 had five thousand dollars,” one w^ould say;
“ask the general, he will tell you if it is true." “ True, as I am an
honest man," would answ'er the general, “to wit, that 1 swapped
with the judge my eastern notes for his southern ones.”

366 TllAVJBLS AKU AUVJENTUltJCS OF

It would be impossible to expliiin to a sober Englishman the life
that is led on, and the numerous tricks that are played in, a Missis¬
sippi steam-boat. One I will mention, which will serve as a sam¬
ple. An itinerant preacher, well known as a knav(i upon both
banks and the wholt* length of the river, used (l>efore he was sent
to the Penitentiary for iiickiiig pockets) to live comfortably in the
steam-boats without ever paying a farthing. From St. liouis ho
would book for New Orleans, and the passage money mwer being
asked in the west but at the termination of the trip, the preacher
would go on shore at Vicksburg, Natches, Bayon, Sarah, or any
other such station in the way. Then ho would get on board any
boat bound to the Ohio, book himself for Louisville, and step on
shore at Memphis. He had no luggage of any kind except a gr»*t'n
cotton umbrella; but, in order to lull idl suspicion, ho contrived
alnfays to set' the captain or thi' clerk in his office, and to ask them
confidentially if they knew the man sleeping in the upper bed—he
was resiMJctabie, as he, the preacher, had in his trunks considera¬
ble sums intrusted to him by some soehities ? The consequence was,
that, Ijclieving him rich, tlie tiaptaui mid officers would jiay liim a
grejit deal of attention, inviting him to wine and liquor. When he
disappeared, they would express how sorry they were to have Ixfon
obliged to leave the gentleman behind, hut they hoped tlu'v would
si'e him at 8t. Louis, New Orleans, or Louisville, or hear from him,
so as to know where to direct his trunks. But they would soon
asm'tain that there were no trunks left behind, that there had
never been any brought on board, and that they had been duped
by a clever sharj>er.

Jh less than twenty-four hours almost all the passengers had got
on board some other boats, but those who had been invited by Mr.
Courtenay tallied a few days with us, for we were on the eve of a
great iishing party on the lake, which in the Far West is certainly
a very curious scene. Among the new guests were several cotton-
planters from the south, and English cotton-brokers. One of them
had passed a short time among the Mormons, at Nauvoo, and had
many amusing stories to toll of them. One 1 seh'Ct among many,
which is the failure of an intended miracle by Joe Smith.

Towards the close of a fine sumraer’s day, a farmer of loway found
a respectable-looking man at his gate, who requested permission
to pass the night under his roof. The hospitable farmer readily
complied; the stranger was invited into the house, and a warm and
substantial' supper set before him.

After he had eaten, tho farmer, who appeared to be a jovial,
warm-h^tedj hdmorous, and withal shrewd old man, past several
hours in conversation wdth his guest, who seemed to be very ill at
ease, both in body and mind; yet, as if desirous of pleasing bis
entertainer, he replied courteously and agreeably to wliatever was
s&id to him. Finally, ho pleaded fat^ue and illness as an excuse

UOKStliVIl TXOZJST.

for retiring to rest, and was conducted by the farmer to an upper
chamber, where he went t o Ix'd.

About the middle of the night, the farmer and his family were
awakened by dreadful gi'oans, which they soon ascertained pro¬
ceeded from the. chamber of the traveller. On going to ascertain
the cause, they found that the stranger was dreadfully ill, suiEfering
th(‘ most acute pains and uttering the most' doleful cries, appa¬
rently quite unc(fnscious of n hat was passing around him. Every¬
thing that kindne.ss and experience could suggest was done to
relieve tlie sick man; but all efforts were in vain, and, to the con-
stf'rnation of the farmer and his family, their guest, in the course
of a tcw' hours, expired.

At an early hour in the morning, in the midst of their trouble
and an.vit‘ty, two traveller.^ came to the gate, and requested enter-
tc^iinKmt. The farmer told them that he would willingly •offer
them hospitality, but that just now his iumsehoid was in the
greatest confusion, on account of the death t)f a stranger, the par¬
ticulars of wliich hi‘ pr<.)eeeded to I’elate to them. They appeared
U) be much siu-prised and grieved at the poor man’s calamity, and
politely requested i)ermissioa to see the corpse. This, of com*se,
the farmer r(*adHy granted, and conducted tliera to the chamber in
M'hich lay the dead body. They looked at it for a few minutes in
silence, and then tlie oldest of the i)air gravely told the farmer that
they wore elders of the chureh of Jesus Christ of Lattm‘-day
Saints, and were empowered by God to perform miracles, even to
the extent of raising the dead; and that they felt quite assured
they could bring to life the man who laid dead before them!

The farmer was, of course, “pretty considerably" astonished at
the quality and powei’s of the persons who addressed him, and,
rather increiiulously asked if they were quite sure.that they could
perform all which they prolessed.

“ O certainly ! not a doubt of it. The Lord has commissioned
us expressly to work mirai'los, in order to prove the truth of the
prophet Joseph Smith, and the inspiration of the books and doc¬
trines revealed to him. Send for all your neighbours, that, in the
presence of itio multitude, w'o may bring the dead man to life, and
that the Lord and his church may be glorified to all men."

Tiie farmer, alter a little consideration, agrfcH>d to let the miracle-
workers proceed, and, as they desired, sent his children to his-
neighbours, who, attracted by the expectation of a miracle, docked
to the house in considerable numbers.

The Mormon elders commenced th^p’ task by kneeling and pray¬
ing before the body with uplifted hands and eyes, and with most
stentorian lungs. Before they had proceeded far with their prayer,
a sudden idea struck the farmer, who quietly quitted the house for
a few minutes, and then returned, mid waited patiently by the bed¬
side, untU the prayer was ftnished, and the elders ready to perform

268 TKATELS AND ADVENTUUES OF

their miracle. Before they began, he respectfully said to them,
that with their permission, he wished to ash them a few questions
upon the subjwt of this miracle- They replied that they had no
objection. The farmer then ashed—

“You are quite certain that you can bring this man to life
again?”

“We are.”

“How do 3 'ou hnow that you can?”

“ We have just received a revelation from the Lord, informing
113 that we can.”

“Are you quite sure that the rovclatiou was from the Lonl?”

“Yes; we cannot be mistaktm about it.”

“Does your power to raise tliis man to life again depend upon
the partieularjial lire of his diseus(‘.^ or could 3 mu now’ bring any
dead man to life?”

“It makes no tlifferenije to us; we could briiiij any corpse to liffi."

“Well, if this man had been kilh'd, and one of his arms cut off,
could 3 ’ou bring him to life, and also restore to him his arm?”

“Certainl^’^I there is no limit to the ])ow'er given us by the Lord.
It would make no difference, even if both his arms and legs were
cutoff.”

“Could you restore him if his head had been cut off?”

“Certainly we could!”

“Well,” said the farmer, with a quiet smile upon his featiu’es,
“I do not doubt the truth of Avhat such holy men ass(*rt; but I am
desii’ous that iny neighbours here should be full 3 ' eonvertinl, h 3 '^
having the miracle performed in the conipiotest imumer possible.
So, by yoiu’ leave, if it maki'.s no difference w’hatever, 1 w ill pro¬
ceed to cut off the bead of this eoi’pse.”

Accordingly he produced a luige and w’ell-sharponed broad axe
from beneath his coat, whit'h hc' swmig above Ins head, and w’as,
apparently, about to bring it dowm upon the neck of the corpse,
when, lo and behold! to the amazement of all present, the dead
man .started up in great agitation, and swore that, f‘by hell and
jingo," he would not hav^^ his head cut off for any consideration
whatever!

The company immediately sciztjd the Mormons, and soon made
them confess that the jiretendod dead imm was also a Monnou
elder, and that they had sent him to the farmer's hou.se, with direc¬
tions to die there at a particular hour, when they would drop in,
as if by accident, and perform a miracle that would astonish every¬
body, The farmca*, alter giving the iinpostor.s a severe chastise¬
ment^ Jet tliem depart to practise their humbug in some other
quarter.

These two “Elders of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day
Saiqts,” ^^ l'ro liom^t Joe, and lus worthy compeer and coadjutor,
Sidbey liigdon.

MONSIIStrXt VlOLEl*.

26**

CIIAI’TFJI XLT.

Tin: (lay of the fishing at length arrived; our party of ladies and
genlleriK'n, with tlie^ black cooks and twenty slaves, stax’ted two
hours before sunrise, and, after a smart ride of some twelve miles,
w'o halt,cd before a Ij^ig row' of tents, which had been ereettid for the
occasion, on the sliores of one of these numerous and beautiful
western lalies. Pifty negroes w^ere already on the spot, some cut¬
ting wood for fuel, some lU'eparing breakfast, while others made
ready the baits and lines, or cleaned empty barrels, in which our
intended vietlms wore to be salted. W(i scarcely had had time to
look around u^, when, from twenty ditforent quarters, wo bejicld
thf^ipproach of as many partu»s, who had been invited to share
the sport. Wo gre<^ed them planter fashion:—** Are you hungry,
eh, (di?—Sam, Napoleon, ^N'ashington, Ca'sai*—quick—the break¬
fast.”

For several days previous, all the erec'ks of the neighbourhood had
been drained of tlieir era^’-flsb, minnow's, and shell-fisb. All the
dug-outs and eainjes from every slr<'ain thirty miles round had
also iK'en dragg<Hl to the lak<*, and it was very amusing to .see a
fleet vt' eighty boats and canoes of every variety, in wdiicli we were
about to embark to jxrosocute our intt'utions against the unsuspec¬
ting inhabitants of the water.

After a heart}’- though somewhat hasty meal, wo proceeded to
business, every white man taking with him a negro, to bait his line
and unhook the fish; the pad<iles -wore soon put in motion, and the
canoes, keeping a distanfie of fifty yards from each other, having
now reached the dw^pest part of the lake, bets were made as to
who would pull up the first fish, the ladies on shore -Nvatching the
sport, and the ealdrons upon the fire readytorei^eivethe first victims.
I must not omit to mention, that two of the larger eanoes, manned
only by nc'groes, wcto ordered to pull up and down the line of
fishing-boats and canoes, to take out the fish as they w'ere cap¬
tured.

At a signal given by the ladies, the lines were thrown into the
lake, and, almost at the sami' momeni, a deafening huxTah of a
Imndi'ed voiee.s announced that all the baits had been taken before
reaching the bottom, every fisherman imagining that he had won
his bet. The winner, however, could never bo ascertained, and
nobody gave it a second thought, all btung now too much excited
with the sport. The variety of the fish was equal to the rapidity
with which they were taken—^basses, perch, sun-fish, buffaloes,
trouts, and twenty other sorts. In less than halt an hour my
canoe was ftill to sinking; and 1 should certainly have sunk wdth
my cargo, had it not lieen most opportunely takrm out by one

270 tEAVEta ASB APVENTDHES dP

of the spare boats. All was high glee on shore and on the lake,
and the scene was now and then still diversified by comi'* acci¬
dents, causing the more mirth as there was no possibility of danger.

The canoe next to me was full to the gunwale, which was not two
inches above water: it contained the English traveller and a negro,
who was quite an original in his way. As fish sncccedwl to fish,
their position became exceedingly ludicrous: the canoe was posi-
tivelj’^ sinking, and tliey wore lustily calling assistance. The
spare boat approached rapidly, and had neared them to within five
yards, when the Englishman's line was suddenly jerked by a very
heavy fish, and so unexpectedly, that the sportsman lost his equili¬
brium and fell upon the larboard side of the canoe.

The negro, wishing to restore the cijuilibrium, threw his w'l'ight
on the opposite side; unluckily, this had been the simultaneous
idea of his white companion, who also rolled over the fish to sf^y-
board. The canoe turned the turtle with tlKjm, and away went
minnows, craw-fish, lines, mi'ii, and all. Every body laughed most
outrageously, as the occnjiants of tin* canoe rc-appeared upon the
surface of the w^atcr and made hiraight for the shore-, not daring to
trust to another canoe after their ducking. The others coutinu<Hl
fishing till about half-past nine, wdien tin* rays of the sun were
becoming so powtirful as to <’otripel us to seek sholtm* in th^ t<’nt8.

If the scene on the lake had been exciting, it became not less so
on shore, w^hen all the negroes, male and female, crowding tttgcither,
began to scale, strip, and salt the fish. Each of them had an
account to give of some gi*and fishery, where a monstrous fisli, a
mile in length, had bej*n taken by some foi tunate “ Sarnho,” of the
south. The girls gaped with tcrr<kr nnd astonishment, the mon
winking and trying to look grave, while spinning these yarns,
which certainly boat all tlie ivomlers of the veracious Earmi
Munchausen.

The call to renew the sport broke off their ludicrous inventions.
Our fortune was as great as in the forenoon, and at sunset we
turned home, leaving tint negrot^s to salt and pack the. fish in
barrels, for the suxjply of the plantation.

A few days afterw-ards, I bade adieu to Mr. (''ourtenay and his
delightful family, and emliarked myself and horse on board of one
of the steamers bound to St. Lonis, w'hicli place 1 reached on tho
following morniog,

St. Louis has been describfjd by so many travellers, that it is
quite useless to mention anything about this “ queen city of the
Mississippi.” I wdll only observe, that my arrival }>roduced a
great ^ensAtion among the inhabitants, to whom the traders in tho
Far "West had often told stories about tbo wealth of tho Shoslionos.
In two or throe days, I received a hundred or more applications
front various speculators, “ to go and kill the Indians in the West,
apd take aw^ay ihoir treasures;" and I should have received ten

MONSIBtJB ViOLtjf. 271

thousand more, had I not hit upon a p;ood plan to rid myself of all
their importunitios. 1 merely sent all the notes to the newspapers
as fast as 1 reeoived thorn; and it oxcite<l a hearty laugh amongst
the traders, when thirty letters appeared in the columns, all of
them written in the same tenor and style.

One evening I h>un«l at the post^ollieci a letter from Joseph Smith
himself, in which he invited mo to go to him without any loss of
time, as the state of affairs having now assumed a eertain de^ee
of importance, it was highly necessary that wo should at once come
to a common understanding, ^Nothing could have pleas(id me more
than this communication, and the next morning I .started from St.
1,-mns, arriving before, noon at St. (lharles, a small town upon the
Missouri, inhabited almost entirely by French erooles, fur traders,
and trappers. There, for the first tinw*, I saw a steam ferrj’', and,
to ejy tile tnilh, 1 do not undi'rstand well luiw horses and waggons
could have been transported over before the existence of steam¬
boats, as, in that partitmlar spot, the mighty stream rolls it muddy
water.s with an incri'dible velocity, forming whirlpools, which
seem strong enough to engulf anything that may come into them.

From St. Charles I erosst'd a hilly land, till I arrived once more
upon the Mi.ssissippi; but there “the father of the Avaters”(as the
Indians call it) presented an aspect entirely new: its waters, not
liaAing yet mixed with those of the IMissouri, were quite trans¬
parent ; the banks, too, wi re several hundred feet high, and recalled
to ror mind the eountrie.s watered by the Buona Ventura river.
For two day.s J continued my road almo.st alwa 3 's in sight of the
stream, till at last, the grounil becoming too broken and hillj”, I
embarked upon another steam ferry at Louisiana, a rising and
promising villag«‘, and landed upon the shores of UlinoLs, where the
level prairie would allow- of more rapid travelling.

The state of Missouri, in i>oint of dimensions, is tlie second state
of the union, l>emg inferior in extent only <,o Virginia. It extends
from IK)'’ to 4if 3.5’ N. lat. and from 19 ’ 20' to 95^ W. long., having
an at;ea of about (JHjftOO square miles. Its boundaries, as fixed by
the Constitution, arc a line dravra from a point in the middle of
the;Mmissippi, in SO'’ N. lat., and along that parallel, west to its
intersection, a meridian line, passing througli the mouth of the
Kansas. Thence, the western bdundarj’- was originally ar that
meridian; but, bj- act of Congress, in 18IK), the triangular tract
between it and the Missouri, above the mouth of the Kansas, was
annexed to the state. On the north, the parallel of latitudp which
passes through the rapids of thii river pesmoines forms the
boundary between that river and the Missouri. •

The surface of that jiortioii of the state which lies north of the
Missouri is, in general, moderately undulating, consisting of an
agreeable interchange of gentle s^vells and broad valleys, and
rarely, though occasionally rugged, or rising into hills of much

272 TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF

elevation. With tlio (ixcoption of narrow s(ri]vs (jf \voo<iIan(l alone?
the water-courses, almost the whole of this repion is iirairie, at
least niDG-tenths heinp w'holly destitute of trc'es. The alluvial
patches orrivor-bott(ms are extensive, particularly outht* :Misaourj,
and generally of great fertility; and the soil of the iipland is etjual,
if not superior, to tint of any other upland tract in the United
States. The region .south of the ISIis.souri river, and west of the
Osage, is of the same description; the northern and w estern Missouri
country is most delightful—a .soil of inexhaustible fertility, and a
salubrious climate, rendering it a most desirable and pheasant
residmee; but south-east of the lattei’ river, the state is traversi'd
by numerous ridges of the Ozark mountains, and the surfaefe i.s
here highly broken and rugged.

T|ii,s inountuinou.s tract lias a breadth of from one hundred to
one hundred and fifty miles; hut although it often shoots up jpto
precipitous peaks, it is believed that thev^'rarely <"xeeed two
thousand feet in height; no aeeurati' iiu'a.surmnenf,s of thi'ir elevfu
tion liave, hou<>ver, been made, and little is l;nown of the course
and mutual relations of the chains. The timber found heri' i.s
pitch-pine, shrub oaks, ci'dar, Sec. Sec., indicative of tlu‘ poverty of
the soil; in the uplands of the rest of the state, hlekoi’y, ]K\st-
oak, white oaks, &e. are the prevailing growth; and in viv'er-
bottom.s, tlie cotton tree, sycamore or button-wood, maple, ash,
w^alnut, SiC. &e. predominate. The south-eastei*n comer of the
state, below Cape Girardeau, and east of the Black River, is a
portion of the immense immdavMl region which hordcr.s tlie Ark-
ausa.s. A considerahle part of thi.i tract is, indeed, above the reach
of the floods, but thest‘ patches are isolated and iiiacces.sible, except
bv boats, during the rise of the water.s.

My friend, Mr. Courtenay, pmetrated these swamps with three
Indians and two negroes. If is companions votc bogged and lost;
he returned, having killed .sev cn fine elks and two buffaloes. Some
of the.so mighty animals have been breeding there for a long while,
undisturlied by man.

The state of Mi.ssouri is abundantly supplied with navigable
channels, affording easy acce.ss to all part.s. The Missi.ssippi
wasl|^s the eastern border, by the windings of the stream, for a
distance of about four Imiulred and seventy miles. Above St. Ge¬
nevieve, it flows Tor the most part botwtvn high and abrupt cliffs
of limestone, rising to an elevation of from one hundred to four
hundred feet abov(3 the surface of th(3 river; soim'times separated
ftoha it by bottoms of greater or less widtli, and at others springing
up dl^Tiptly from the water’s edge. A fow^ miles below (’apo Gira-
deau, and about thirty-five miles above the mouth of tin' Ohio, are
rocky iedgos, called tlie Little and Grand CJiain; and about
halS-way betwwn that point and St. Genevieve, is the Grand
Tower, one of the w onders of the Mississippi. It is a stupemlou

MONSIEUH VIOLET*

273

pile of rooks, of a conical form, about one hundred and fifty feet
hiffh and one Imndrod feet circumference at its base, r3sin;» up out
of the bed of the river. It seems, in conm'xion with the rocky
shores on botli sides, to have been ojjposed, at some former period,
as a barrier to the flow of the Mississippi, wtiich must here have
had a peri)('ndicular fall of more than one hundred feet.

The principal tributaries of the Mississippi, with the exception of
the Misst»uri, are tlic I)esmoin<'s, Wyacond, Fabius, Salt, and Cop¬
per Fiver, aho\ e that fyreat stream, and the Mcrrimac, St. Francis,
and White River below; the two last passinf? into Arkansas. l>es-
moines, which is only a boundary strerun, is navigable one hundred
and seventy miles, and Salt River, whose northern sources are in
Iowa, and southern in Boone eoiinly, and which takes its name
from tlio salt licks or salines on its borders, may be navigated Jpy
f;t(?ar|j-bontH ii]) to Florida (a small village); that is to say, ninety-
!iv«‘ or a liuntlrtHl inilcl. The Riviere an Cuivre, or Copiier River,
is also a navigable .stream; but tho navigation of all these rivers is
interrupted by ict' in winter, and by shoals and bars in the dry season.

The Missouri riv(‘r flows through the state for a distance of about
si-x luuidred miles; but, although steam-boats hare ascended it two
thousand five hundred miles from its mouth, its navigation is ren¬
dered (lifiicult and dangerous by sand-bars, falling banks, snags,
and shifting channels.

The bank of tho Mississippi river, on the Illinois side, is not by
far so pioturesquo as the country I have just described,hut its fer¬
tility is astonis-hing. Consequently, the farms and villages are less
scattered, and cities, built with taste and a great display of wealth,
are found at a short distance one from tlie other. Quincy, I may
mention, among others, as being a truly beautiful town, and quite
European in its stylo of structure and neatness. Elegant fountains
are pouring their cool waters at tho end of every row of houses;
some of the squares are magnificent, and, as the town is situated
upon a hill siweral hundred feet above tho river, the prospect is
truly grand.

At every }daco where I stopped between St. Louis and Quincy, I
always heard the Mormons abused and spoken of as a set of scoun¬
drels, but from Quincy to Nauvoo the reports W'ero totally different.
The higher or more enlightened , classes of the i>ooplo have over¬
looked the potty tricks of the Mormon loaders, to w'atcli with more
accuracy the advance and designs of Mormonism. In Joe Smith
they recognise a great man—a man of will and energy—nne who
lias tiic power of carrying everything before him, and they fear him
accordingly. *

On leaving Quincy, I travelled about seventy miles through a
country entirely flat, but admirably cultivated. I passed through
several little villages, and at noon of the second day I reached my
destination.

s

274

TRAVEM AND ADVEVftTftfiSl

OHAPTEK \Lir.

Nadvoo, the holy city of the Mormons, ami present capital of
their empire, is situated in tin* north-western part of Illinois, on
the east bank of the Mississippi, in lat, 40*’ ; it is l) 0 unded on

the noitli, south, and west by the river, which there forms a largo
curve, and is nearl)-- two miles wide. Eastward of the city is a
beautiful undulating prairie; it is distant tc-n miles from Fort Madi¬
son, in Iowa, and more than two huudrvd from St. IaujIs.

Before the Mormons gaihcn'd there, the 2 )lace was named tktm-
merce, as I have alread}- .said, utkI was hut a small and obscure
village of some twenty houses; so rapidly, however, have thur ac¬
cumulated, that there are now, within fm/r years of their first
settlement, upwards of fifteen thousand inhahitants in the eity, and
as many more in its inmu'diate vicinity.

The surface of the ground upon which TVauvexj is built i.s very
uneven, though there are no great elevations. A few feet below
the soil is a vast bed of limestone, from which excellent building
material can be quarried, to almost any extent. A number of
tumuli, or ancient mounds, ;iro found within the limits of the city,
proving it to have been a idaoo of some imimrtaiiee with the former
inhabitants of the country.

The space comprised withio tlie city limits i.s about four miles in
its extreme lengtli, and three ii; its liTcadth: but is very irregular
in its outline, and does not cover .so much ground as the above
measurement would seem to indicaie.

The city is rt'gularly laid out, the streets crossing eacli other at
right angles, and generally of considerable length, and of convenient
width. The majority of the houses are still nothing more than log
cabins, but lately a great number of jilank and brick housc.s have
been erecited. The chief edilicijs of j\’auvoo are the temple, and au
hotel, called the Nauvoo house, but mdther of them is yet finished;
the latter is of brick, upon a stone foundation, and presents a front
of one hundred and twenty feet, by sixty feet deci), and i.s to bo
throe stories high, exclusive of the basement. Although intended
chiefly for the roceiitiou and entertainment of strangers and tra¬
vellers, It contains, or rather will contain, a splendiil suite of apart¬
ments for the particular accommodation of the prophet Joe Smith,
dhd his heirs and descendants for ever.

TRie privilege of this accommodation ht: pretends was granted to
him by the Lord, in a special revelation, ou account of his servici's
to the Churclii. It is most extraordinary that the Americans, im-
bned with demotrratic seiitimoats and with such an utter aversion
to hereditary privileges of any kind, could for a moment be blinded

MONSlfiUB VlOtET. jJVfi

to thp selfishness of the prophet, who thus easily provided for him¬
self Sind his posterity a palasu* and a maintenance.

The Mormon temple is a splendid structure of stone, quarried
within the bosinds of the (“ifyj its breadth is eighty feet, and its
h'Tigth on(^ hundred and forty, independent of an outer court of
tliirty feet, making the length of tlu? whole structure one liundred
and .sev<*nty feet. In the basement of the temple, is the baptismal
font, eon,strue!ed in imitation of the famruis brazen sea of Solomon;
it is supported by twelve oxen, well modelled and overlaid with
gold. U})on th<i sich's of the font in panels, are represented various
scriptural .subjects, well painted. Tlu* upper story of the temple
will, when fini.sht^d, be u.sed as a lodge-room for the order lodge
and other secret .soeieth'.s. In the body of the temple, where it is
intended that the congregation shall assemble, are two sets of pul¬
pits; lonc for the priesthotjd, and the other for the grandees of the
church. *

The cfist of lhi.s noble ('difice has been defrayed by tithing the
■whole Mormon church. Those who re.side at Nauvoo and are able
to labour, have Ixu'u obliged to work every tenth day in quarrying
stone, or upon th<‘ buihling of the temple itself. Besides the tem¬
ple, there an* in Nauvoo two steam saw-mills, a steam flour-mill, a
tool-factory oii a largo scale, a foundery, and a company of const-
der.able w'ealth, from Staffordshire, hav<! also established there a
manufacture of English china.

Th(j population of the holy city itself is rather of a mixed kind.
I'lu* general gathering of the saints ha.s, of course, brought together
men of all elasse.s and characters. The great majority of them are
luioducated and unpolislied people, ^vho are undoubtedly sincere
believers in tin* prtiphet and his doetriiie.s. A groat proportion of
tlnun (jousist, of converts from the English manufacturing districts,
who were easily persuaded by Smith’s missionaries to exchange
their wretclKHiness at. liome for ease and plenty in the promised land.
Thesfi men are <ievotedly attached to the prophet’s will, and obey
his orders as they would those of God himself.

These aliens can, by tlie law of Illinois, vote after six months*
residence in the state, and they consequently vote blindly, giving
their votes according to the will of Joe Smith. To such an extent
does his will influence them, that at the election in Nauvoo (1642),
there were but six votes against the candidates he supported. Of
tho Munnons, I believe the majority to be ignorant, deluded men,
really and earnestly devoted to their new religion; but their
It'aders are men of intellect, who profess Mormonism because of the
wealth, titles,* rank, and power wdiich it procures them.

, As a military position, Nauvoo, garrisoned by twenty or thirty

* 1 have mentlonod the word titles: I must moke myself understood. There
are certain classes of individuals in the United States who, hy their own for¬
tune, education, and social position, could not be easily brought over to Mor-

216 TltAVEliS AKD ADVSNTUItES OF

thousand fanatics, well armed and well supplied with provisions,
would be most formidable. It is imapproachable upon any side but
the cast, and there the nature of the ground (boggy) otFers groat
obstacles to any besieging operations. It is Smith’s intention to
congregate his followers there, until ho accumulates a force that can
defy anything that can bo brought against him.

Nauvoo Ls a Hebrew word, and signifies a beautiful habitation for
a man, carrying with it the idea of rest. It is not, however, con¬
sidered by the Mormons as their final home, but as a resting-place;
they only intend to remain there till they have gathered a force
sufficient to enable them to conquer Indepondenf'o (Missouri), which,
according to them, “is one of the most fertile, pleasant, and
desirable countries on the face of the earth, possessing a soil unsur-
pa^ed by any region.” Independence they consider their Zion,
and tliey there intend to rear their great temple, the corner ||:one
of which is already laid. There is to bo the 'real gathering-place
for all the saints, and, in tliat deligiitful and healthy country, they
expect to find their Eden and build their New Jerusalem.

"What passed between Joe Smith and myself I feci not at liberty
to disclose: in fact, publicity would interfere with any futuro^plans.
I will only say, that the prophet received mo with the greatest
cordiality, and confirmed the otFers which his agents liad made to
me w'lien I was among the Coraanches. When, however, I came to
the point, and wished to ascertain wliother the Mormons would act
up to the promises of their leaders, I p<irocived, to my gr(3at dis¬
appointment, that tJie “m'^ans,” at least, for the present—^the
operative means—wore not yet ready to be put in motion. Accord¬
ing to him, the Foxes, Osages, Winnebegocs, Sioux, and Menuomonio
Indians would act for him at a moment’s notice; and, on my visiting
the Foxes to ascertain the truth ol those assertions, I discovered
that they had, indeed, promised to do so, provided thal-, previously,
the Mormons should have fulfilled certain promises to them, the

monism. Joe Smith, as a founder of a sect, has not only proved himself a
great man, but that he perfectly understands his coimtrymen, and, above all,
th^ greediness for any kind of distinction which can nominally raise tboui
above the common herd; for it is a fact that no people hate the word equality
more than the Americans. Joe Smith has instituted titles, dignities, and offices
corresponding to tlioso of the governments In the Old World. He has not yet
dared to make himself a king, but he has created a nobility that will support
him when he thinks proper to assume the sovereign title. Thus ho has selected
Inffividuals expreaely to take care of the church ; these form the order of the
Templars, with their grand masters, fee. &c. He has organised a band of sol¬
diers called Danites, a sacred battalion—the celeres of Romulus—these are all
eomites or counts; their chiefs are conductors, or dukes. Then follow the
pontiffs, the bishops, &c. This plan has proved to answer well, as it has given
to Mormonism many wealthy individuals from the eastern states, who accepted
the tlties and came over to Europe to act as emissaries from Joe, under the
magnitlcent titles of Great Qommander, Frince of Zion, Comte de Jerusalem,
Director of the Holy College, &c.

MONBIHUR VIOLET. 277

pi rformaiied of AvMch I knew was not yet in the power of the
Mormons.

In the moanwliilo 1 heard from Joe Smith, himself, how God had
selected him to obtain and be the keeper of the divine bible; and
file reader will form his own idea of Joe Smith by the narrative.
The day appointe d was the 22nd of September, and Joe told me that
on that day—

“ He arose early in the morning, took a one-horse waggon of some
one who had staid over-night at his house, and, accompanied by his
wife, repaired to the hill which contained the book. He loft his
wife in the waggon by the road, and went alone to the hill, a distance
of thirty or forty rods. He then took the book out of the ground,
hid it in a tree top, and returned homo. The next day ho went to
work for some titne in tin* town of iSrac<*don, hut about ten days
afto'sivards, it having hem suggested that sonit* one had got his
book, his ife g.ave lii^n notice of it; upon which, hiring a lioi'sc, he
returned home in the afternoon, staid just time enough to drink a
cup of tc'a, w('iit in search of his book, found it safe, took olF his
frock, >\rai)ped it round his treasure, put it under his arm, and ran
all tluyway home, a distance of about two mih'S. He said hn should
tliink that, being written on plates of gold, it weighed sixty poimds,
but, at all events, was sure it was not less than forty. On his
return he wais attaekcnl by two men in the w'oods, knocked them
Ivoth down, made Iiis eseap(', and arrived safe at homo with his
burdt'ii.”

The above were the exact words of Smith, to which he adds,
soniewheia' in his translation of the book, that had it not been for
the supernatural virtues of the stone he carried with him, virtues
which (mdowed him with divine strength and courage, ho would
never have boon able to undergo the fatigues, and conquer the
obstacles he encountered diming that frightful night.

Thus Smith gets possession of his precious manuscript. But,
alas! 'Us Mrilteu in Eg^'ptian hieroglypliics. Joe calls to his
assistance tlie wonderful stone, “the gift of God,” and, peeping
hastily through it, he sees an angel pointing somewhere towards
a mirandous pair of spectacles! !! Yes, two polished pieces ot
crystal u ere the humble means by which the golden plates were to
be rendertul comprehensible. By-the-bye, the said spectacles are
a heavy, ugly piece of workmanship of the last century; they are
silver-mounted, and bear the maker's name, plainly engraved,
“ Schneider, Zurich."

The Book of Mormon was published in tho year 1830. Since
that period its believers and advocates have propagated its doc¬
trines and absurdities with a zeal worthy of a better cause.
Through every state of the union, and in Canada, the apostles of
this wild delusion have disseminated its principles and duped
thousands to believe it true. They have crossed the occ-on, and in

278 TUAVELS AND ADVEM’UKKS OT

England have made many converts; recently some of their mission¬
aries have been sent to Palestine. Such strenuous cAc'rtions having
been, and still being nia<le, to propagate the doctrines of tliis book,
and such fruits having already appeared from the labours of Us
friends, it becomes a matter of sumo interest to investigat(‘ the
history of this strange delusion, and, although it dtji's not dc'serve
it, tre<at the subject seriously.

The Book of Mormon purports to be the r(*cord or history of a
certain people who inhabited America previous to its discovery by
Columbus. According to the book, this people were the de.s<‘<'iul-
ants of one Lehi, who crossed the ocean from tiio eastern eontini'iU
to that of America. Their history ami reeords, containing pro¬
phecies and r(!Vclations, were engraven, b}' th<‘ eommaml of (iod,
on small plates, .and dt'positcd in the hill Comora, which a]ipf*ars to
be situated in Wesb^nt New I’ork. Thus u as pn'srrvcd an acj^fumt
of this race (together with their religions crs?ed) up tt» tlii' ])eriod
when the descendants ol Jiaman, lAumiel, and Sarn. who were the
three eldest sons <»f Lohi, arose and destroy<‘d the descendants of
Nephi, who was the youngest son. From this }).Tio<l the dcsei'iid-
ants of the eldest sons “ dwindhal in nnbelict,” and “became a
dark, loathsome, and filthy pi*ople,” Tliese last-mentioned are the
present American Indians.

The plates above-mentioned rcnmimal in their depository nnlil
1827, when they wore fovmd by ,loseph Smith, jun. w ho w as directed
in the discover}’by the angel of th(' Ta)r(]. On the.s(; })late,s wer('
certain hieroglyphies, said to Ik* of the Egyptian charaeter, ^vhicli
Smith, by the direetion of Girl, being i .structed by inspiration as
to their meaning, proceeded to ira/isl.ite.

It will be here proper to remark, tliat a narrative so ( xtraordi-
nary as that contained in the Bo(»k of I\loi*mon, translated fnun
hieroglyphics, of which even (lie most learn(>d ha\<‘ but a limited
knowledge, and that, too, by an ignorant man, who prettunled to
no other knowledge of the eharac‘tr*rs than what he tlerivecl from
inspiration, requires more than ordinarj’evidence to substantiate
it. It will, therefore, be oui* purpose to inquire into tlie nature
and degree of testimony which has been given to the world to
siibst.antiatc the claims of this extraordinary book.

In the first place, the existence of th(‘ plates fliemsclves htis CA'er
since their alleged discovery been in disjnite. On this point it
would be extremely easy to give some proofs, ])y making an exhi¬
bition of them to the wmrld. If they are so ancient as th(‘y are
claimed to be, and designed for the purpose of transmitting tlie
history of a people, and if they have lain lor ages di'posited in the
earth, their appeat:ance would certainly iiulicato the fact. What
evidence, then, have we of the existence of these j^lates ? Why,
none other than the mere dictum of Smitli himscll’ and the (icrtiti-
cates of eleven other individuals, who say that they have seen

Mo»Hn;irJi viotur, 279

tliem; and ui>on this testimony wo arc required to believe this
most extraordinary narrative'.

]\ ou', ('ve'ii adinitt in^r, for t he sake of ar^meni, that those witnesses
are all honest and credible men, yi't what would be easier tlian for
hniilli to <l('e(*ive them? t\n)ld he not easily procure plates, and
iriseribi' thereon a set of eliaraoters, no matter wltat, and then ex¬
hibit them to tin' intended witnesses as f'enuine? What would he
t'asier than thus to impi)se on their creilulity and weakness? And
if it. were necessary to give them the appearances of antiquity, a
cdieiuieal process could elfect the matter. But we do not admit that
t hesr' witnesses were honest; few six of them, after having made the
Jdtestation to the world that they had seen the plates, left the
church, tlms fontradieting that to which they had certified. And
one of thes(' wit trusses, lilartin Harris, wiio is frequently mentioned
in tly^' Book of t'ovenanls—who W'as a higli-jwiost of the church—
who was oiu' of (he inbst inlatuated of Smith’s followers—who even
ga^e his property in order to procure the publication of the Book
of JMormon, afterwjirds st'cedod from the church. Smith, in speak¬
ing of him ill eoiini xion with others, said that they were so far
beneath contenq»t, that a notice oftheni would bo top great a sacri¬
fice for a gi'iitleman to makt'.

Some of tlie 'Mormouri Jiave said that a copy of the plates was
pri'scnti'd to Professor Antium, a, gi nth'iuan standing in the first
rank as a classical scholar, and that lu' ath'sted to the faithfulness
of till' translation of the Book of Mormon. Aow, let us read what
the professor himself has to say on this matter. In a letter rt'contly
publislu'd he <‘\pressi-s liiinself thu.s:—

“ Many years n'jo. the precise <Ia(e I flo not now recollect, a plain-looking
country in.iii o.ille l upon me, with a letter from Doctor Sainnol L. Mitchell, re-
ipiestiiig me to e'cainine and give iny opinion upon a cei'tain paper, marked with
viii lous cliuracters. wiiieh the doct.or eonfessed he could not decipher, and
whieh the bearer of the note w.is very nnvions to have explained. A very brief
cxarninatiou of the paper convinced me that it was not only a mere hoax, but a
very eluinsy one. Thu chtiracters wito arranged in coiuinns, like the Chinese
mode of writing, and presented the nioM <.ingulav medley 1 ever licheld ; Greek,
llebpevv, and all sorts of letters, more or less distorted, cither through unskll-
fiilnpss or from actual design, were intermingled with sundry delineations of
lialf-moons, stars, ami otiicr natural objects, and the whole ended in a rude re¬
presentation of the Mexican zodiac. The conclusion was irresistible, that some
cunning follow ha<l prej'iirfsl tlie paper in question, for tlio pirpose of imposing
upon the countryman wlio brought it. and 1 told the man so, without any hesi¬
tation. lie tlien proceeded to give mo the history of the w'hole affair, which
convinced me that lie liad fal'cn into the Ivands of some sharper, while it left me
In great astonishincnt at his simplicity."

The profi's.sor also states that ho gave ln« opinion in writing to
the man; that “the marks on the paper appeared to be merely an
imitation of various alphabetic oharaoters, and had no meaning at
all (umneeted w'ith them.”

The following letter, tvhtch I received, relative to the occupation

280 TJttAVELS AND ADVENTUHES OV

of Joo Sniitli, as a ireasiu’c?*fiii(ler, will probably remind f lie reader
of the character of Doiisterswivel, in Waltei* Seott’s tale of the
“ Antiquax’y.” One could almost imagine, that either AV'^aKor Scott
liad borrowed from Joe, or that Joe ha<l borrowed from the great
novelist:—

“ I first became acquainted with Josepli Smith, senior, and )iis family, in 1820.
They lived at that time in Palmyra, about one rnilo and a half from my resi¬
dence. A great part of their time was devoted to digging for money, especially
in the night-time, when, they said, the money could bo most easily obtained. I
have heard them tell marvellous tales respecting the discoveries they have made
in their peculiar occupation of money-digging. They would say, for in.stanee,
tiiat In sucli and sucli a place, in such a hill, or a certain man’s farm, there were
deposited kegs, barrels, and Jiogshcads of coined silver and gold, bars of gold,
golden images, hi’ass kettles tilU'd with gold and silver, gold candlestick.s,
8wq|ds, &c. &c. They would also say that nearly all the hills in this jiurt of
Now York were thrown by liiiman hands, and in them were large eavo.s, whicli
Joseph, jun. could sec, hy placing a stone of Mngula|,appearance in his Iiat, in
such a manner os to c,\'clude all light, at which lime they pretended lie could
see all things witldn and under tlie eartli; tlmt he could spy within the above-
inentioncd caves largo gold bars and silver plates; that he ofiuld also diseoMT the
spirits in whose charge these treasurc.s were, clothc'd in ancient dresse.o. At
ci-i*tain times, th^c treasures could be obtained very easily; at others, the ob-
tiuaiug of them was dillicuU. The facility of appiMaebing them depended in a
great measure on the state of the moon. IJ(‘w moon and (Jood Friday, 1 iada u',
were regarded as the most favourablo thnc’^ for obtaining these tveasines. Tbc-e
tales, of course, I regarded as visionary. However, being prompted by curiosity,
I at length acoepied their invitation to join them in tlieir nocturnal excursions.
1 will now relate a few' incidents attending tht'.se excur.sions.

‘‘Joseph Smith, sen. camo to me one night, and told me that Josepli, jiui,
had been looking in his stone, and had soen, not many rods from his ]iou-;c, two
or three kegs of gold and silver, some foet under the surface of the earth, and that
none others but the elder Joseph and n.yself could gel them, I accordingly con¬
sented to go, and eaily in the evening rt'i'aired to the place of deposit. Joseph,
sen. first made a circle, twelve or fourteen feet in diameter. ‘ This circle,' said
he, ‘contains the treasure.’ He then stuck in the ground a row of w itcfi-lHucl
sticks around the said circle, for the pm’pO',e of keeping otr the evil spirits.
liVithin this circle ho made another, of about eight or ten Icct in diameter. He
Walk^ around three times on the periphery of ibis last circle, imittcriiig to
hlmsrif something I could not understand. He next stuck a steel rod in the
centre of the circles, and then enjoined jirofound silence, lest wo should arouse
the evil spirit who hawl the charge of these treasures After we had dug a
iteench of about five feet in depth around the rod, the old man, by sign.s and
motions, asked leave of absence, and w'cnt to the house to Inquire of the son
the cause of our disappointment. He soon returne<l, and said, that .loc had
remained all the time in the house, looking in his stouc and watching the
motions of the evfii siibrit; that he saw the spirit come tip to tlie ring, and as
soon as it beheld tlie cone wliich ho had formed around the rod, it caused tho
money to sink. We then went into the house, and the old man observed that
We had made a mistake in tiie commencement of the o{>erutiou: ‘ if it had not
been for that,’ said he, ‘ we should have got tho money.'

“ At another time, they devised a scheme by which they might satiate their
hUB®er with the flesh of one of my sheep. They had seen in my flock of slicep
fl',^ge fat black wether. Old Joseph and one of tho tuiys came to me one day,
llltd said, that Joseph, jun. luul discovered some very remarkable and valuable trea-
rtires, which could be procured only in tliat way. That way was as follows

MONSIKUA VIOLKT.

2B1

that a Muck f)hev^>p should bo taken on the ground whcro the trea^nrea wore con¬
cealed ; that, lifter cutting its throat, it uhould be led around a circle while bleed¬
ing; this hciiiig done, the wrath of the evil spirit would be npi^icatied, the treasures
could tlicn be obtained, and iny .share of them would be four-fold. To gratify
my curiosity, I let them have the sheep. They afterwards informed me that
the slu'cp was killed pursuant to commandment; liut as there was some mistake
ill the process, it did not luave the desired effect. This, I believe, is the only
time they ever m.aJc money-digging a profitable business. They, however, bad
constantly around tlieni a worthless gang, whose employment it w'as to dig for
money at night, and who, during day, had more to do with mutton than money.

“ ^riicathcy found that the licttcr classe.s of people of this vicinity would no
longer put any faitli in their schemes for digging money, they then pretended to
find a gohl bihlc, of wtiich they said, the Book of Mormon was only an Intro¬
duction. This latter hook \i'a.s at length fitted for the press. No means were
taken by any indiiidual to feui)pre.is its publication; no one apprehended danger
from a book originating with individuals who had neitlier influence, honesty,
nor honour. The tivo Josephs and 'Hu'am promised to show'me the plates
aftoatho Book of Mormon w'as translated, hut afterwards, they pretended to
have received an cxi»rcs»* commandment, fori adding them to show the plates.
KespecHng the manner of obtaining and translating tlie Book of Mormon, tti^r
faiatementh were always di'^cordnnt. The cider Joseph w'ould say, that ho had
seen the plates, and that he knew them to lie gold; at other times ho would
say, they looked like gold, and at other times he osscitcd ho hod not seen tlte
plates at ail.

" I have thus briefly stated a few of the fa,cts, in relation to tho conduct and
ehanicter of this family of Smith.'i; probably sufficient has been stated without
my going into detail. “ Wixxxam Staffobd."

The Jblluwing is a curious document from one of the very iudi-
vi(lu<al.s who ]>riutcd the iMormou Bible:—

“ llavhig liotiecd in a lute number of the iitg-iis qf the Times a notice of a
work entitled * Mormon Duiusiona and Mon.strosities,’ it occurred to me tliatit
might, perhaps, Iw of service to the cause of truth to state one circumstance,
rdativo to the authenticity of tho Book of Mormon, w'hich occurred during its
publication, at which time 1 wu.s a practical printer, and engaged in tlie office
w'here it was printed, and became familiar with the men and their principles,
tlwough whose agency it W'as ‘ got up.’

“ Tho circumstance alluded to was as follow.s :—Wo had heard much said by
Martin Harris, the man w'ho paid for tlie printing, and the only one in the con¬
cern wortli any property, about the wonderful wisdom of the translators of the
mysterious plates, and wo resolved to test their wisdom. Accordingly, after
putting one sheet in tytie, we laid it aside, and told Harris it was lost, and there
would be a serious defection in the twoi; in consequence, unless another sheet,'
like the oiiginal, could be produced. Tho announcement threw the old gentle¬
man into groat excitement; but, after a few moments’ reflection, he said 1 m
would ti-y to obtain another. After two or three weeks, another sheet was pro¬
duced, but no lucre like the original than any other sheet of paper would have
been, written over by a common schoolboy, after having read, as they had, the
manuscript preceding and .succeeding tlie lost sheet. As might be expected,
the disclosure of this trick greatly annoyed the authors, and caused no little
merriment among those who were acquainted with tlic circumstance. As we
were none of us Christians, and only laboured for the ‘ gold tiiat perisheth,’ we did
not care for the delusion, only so far as to lie careful to avoid it ourselves and
to enjoy the hoax. Nat one of tho hands In the office where the.wonderful
book was print(«i over became a convert to the &y,sten), altliough the wrrlter of this
was often assured by Harris, that if ho did not, he would be destroyed in 1832.

“ Groton, May 23d, I8<i2. " T. N. S. TvcKen."

m

TllAVCI/S ANW AOV®NTnBt;S Of

CIIAPTEU XLH,

Let us now examine into tlio pf)litieal views of the Mormons, an<l
follow Smith in his lofty and aspiring visions of sovereignly for
the Allure. Ho is a rogue anti a swindler—no tme can doubt that;
yet there is something grand in his ef)mposiiion. Joe, the mean,
miserable, hali-starvt'd money-digger of ’Western Xevv York, was,
as I have before observed, cast in the mould of conquerors, and
out of that same clay wddch Naturt' had empkyi'tl for the ereation
of a 3fahomet.

His first struggle was su(*ct'ssful. The greater portion of Ids
foIl 9 wers surround(*d him in Kirkland, and aeknowledged his power,
as that of God’s right hand; while many individuals from anfong
the better classes repaired to him, attracted *hy the ascendency of
a bold genius, or by the exp-'ctatiou of obtaining a shan* in his
fame, power, and glory.

Kirkland, however, was an inland place; th(“r(‘, on every side.
Smith had to contend with opposition; his power \\ as confined, and
hw plans had not suflReient room for development. Ho turned lus
mind towards the western borders (d‘ Missouri: it was'hul a
thought; but with him, rapid aelion was as much a nalural conse¬
quence of thought as thunder is of lightning. Examine into the
topography of that country—the holy Zion and ])romis<‘d hind of
the Mormons, and it will hi easy to la engnise the tived and nii-
changoablo views of Smith, as connect'd with the formation of a
vast empire.

Kor the last twelve or fifteen years, the government of the United
States has, through a mistaken policy, been constantly nigaged in
sending to the wi'stern borders all the eastern Indian tribes that
W'ere disposed to sell their land, and also tlie various tribes who,
having rebelled against their cowardly despotism, had boon over¬
powered and conquered during the struggle. This gross want of
policy is obvious.

Surrounded and demoralized by wliite men, the Indian falls into
a complete .state of decadence and abruthsemeni. Witness the Choc¬
taw tribes that hover constantly about Mobile and New Orleans;
the Winnibegoes, who have of late come into immediate contact
with the settlers ofWi.sconsin; the Poltawatoraies, on both shores
of Lake Mtchigiui; the Mi^rais of North Indiana, and many more.
On the contrary, the tribes on the borders, or in tin* ^vilderness,
are on the increase. Of course, there are a few ea[<*eptions, such
as the Kanzas, or the poor Mandans, wdio have lately been almost
entirety sw'^ept away from the earth by the small-pox. Some of
tho smaller trifees may bo dostroy(?d h}' warfare, or they in-
c^orate thera,selyes with others, and thus lose their name and

MONSiiiiTiu vioLBa’.

nationality; but the inm'asc of the Indian population is considcr-
aMe among the great iineontrolled nations; such as the Chippewas
and Daheotahs (Sumxes), of the north United States; the Co-
inan<;hes and th<‘ Pawnees, on tlie boundaries, or tsven in the very
heart, of Texas; the Shoshones (Snakes), on the southern limits of
Oregon; and tlie brave Apaches of Sonora, those bold Bedouins of
the Mexican descTts, M ho, constantly on horseback, wander in im-
meuso phalanxes, from tlie eastern shores of the Gulf of California
to the very waters of the iJio Grande.

Admitting, therefore, as a fact, that the tribes on the borders do
increasi', in tlx* same ratio with their material strength, grows also
tlieir invineibh', stern, and unehangeable hatred towards the Ameri¬
can. In fiu't, more or less, they havo all boon ill-treated and
abused, and evi'i-y additumal outrage to one tribe is locked up in
thejneinory of all, wlio wait for tin* moment of retaliation and re¬
venge. In the Wi.sevfnsiii M'ar (Black Hawk, iHJliJ), even after the
poor starved M'arriors had surrendered themselves by treaty, after
n nobh* struggle, more' than tiv(» hundred old men, women, and
children were torch'd by the Americans to cross the river ■without
bftats or canoes. Tin* pf)or things imdeavoured to pass it with tlie
help of their horses; Iheri'ver there was more than half-ar-uiile
bnnid, and while these nrifortunates were struggling for life against
a current of nine miles an liour, tluw were tn^cherously shot in
the watei’.

Tiiis fact is known to all the tribes—<‘ven to tli<i Comanches,
■who are so distant. It ha.s satisfied them as to what they may
expect from tlioso wIk» thus violate all tn^aties and all faith. The
remainder of that brave tribe is now dwelling on the west borders
of loway, but their VM’ongs are too deeply dyed with their own
blood to be forgotten oven by generations, and their cause is ready
to bo espoused by every tribe, t*von those who have been their
hereditary enemies; for what, is, after all, their history but the
history of alino.st every Indian nation transplanted on the other
side of the Mississippi I'

This belt of Indian tribes, therefore, is rather an unsafe neigh¬
bour, especially in the event of a civil war or of a contest with
England. Having themselves, by a mistaken policy, collected to¬
gether a cordon of offended warriors, the United States will some
day deplore, when too late, their former greediness, cowardice, and
cruelty towards the natural owners of their vast territories-

It is among these tribes that Joe Smith noshes to lay the founda¬
tion of his future empire; and, settling at Independence, he was
intfjrposing as a neutral forcse betw'ecn opponents, who would,
each of them, have purchased bis massive strength and effective
energy with the gift of supremacy over an immense and wealthy
territory. As we have seen, chance and the fortune of war have
thrown Smith and the Mormons back on the eastern shores of the

2B4 TKAVELS AND ADVENTUUBa ol'

Mississippi, opposite the entrance of Desmoincs river; but when
forced back, the Mormons were an unruly and turbulent crowd,
without means or military tactics; noAv, such is not the ease. Al¬
ready, the prophet has sent able agents over the river; the Sacs
and Foxes, the same tribe wo have just spoken of as the much-
abused natioTi of Wisconsin, and actually residing at about eighty
miles N. N. W. from Nauvoo, besides many others, are on a good
understanding with the Latter-day Saints. A few hold apostles of
Mormonism have also gone to the far, far west, among the uncon¬
quered tribes of the prairies, to organise an offensive power, ever
ready for action.

Thus, link after link, Smith extends his influence, which is al¬
ready felt in IHinois, in Iowa, in IMLssouri, at Washhigton, and at
tho.veiy foot of the llocky Moimtains. Moreover, hundreds of
Mormons, without avowing their creed, have gone to Texas atitf <'s-
tablished themselves there. They save all tneir crops, and have
mimerous cattle and droves of horses, undoubtedly to feed and sus¬
tain a Mormon army on any future invasion. Let us now e.xamine
further into this cunning and long-sighted policy, and we shall ad¬
mire the great genius that presides over it. W(‘ are not oiu' of
those, so common in these days, who have adopted “ nil admiTuri"
for their motto. Genius, well or ill guided, is still genius ; and if
we load with shame the former life of Smith, and his present abom¬
inable reKgious impositions, still wa are bound to do justice to that
conquering spirit which can form such vast ideas, and w ork such
a multitude to his will.

The population of Texas does not amount to seventy thousand
souls, among whom there are tw'euty-five different forms of religion.

Two-thirds of the inhabitants are scoundrels, who have there
sought a reftige against the offended laws of their country. They
are not only a curse and a chock to civilization, but they reflect
dishonour upon the remaining third portion of the Texians, who
have come from distant climes, for the honest purposes of trad<>
and agriculture. This mongrel and mixed congregation of beings,
though firmly united in one point (war with Mexico, and that in
the expectation of a rich plunder), are continually at variantie on
other points. Three tliousand Texians would fight against Mexico,
but not two hundred against the Mormons; and that for many
reasons: government alone, and not an individual, would be a
gainer by a victory; in Texas, not a soul cares for anything but
himself. Besides, the Mormons are Yankees, and can handle a
rifle, setting aside their good drilling and excellent discipline. In
number, they would also have the advantage; while I am now writ¬
ing they can muster five thousand well-drilled soldiers, and, in the
ervent of an invasion of Texas, they could easily march ten thousand
men from the Babincto the Rio Grande, from the Red River to
the Gulf of Mexico. Opposition they will not meet. A year after

MONSIBUn VIOLET.

285

the capture, the whole of Texas becomes Mormon, while Joe—king,
emperor, Pharaoh, judge, or regenerator—^rules over a host of two
hundred and fifty thousand devoted subjects.

Let our reader observe that these are not the wild Utopias of a
liealed imagination. No; we speak as we do believe, and our in-
tereourso with the Mormons, during our travels, has been su£B>
ciently close to give us a clear insight into their designs for the
future. .

Joe’s policy is, abovti all, to conciliate the Indians, and that once
done, there will not be in America a power capable of successfully
oj^posing him. In order to assist this, ho joins them in his new
faitti. In admitting the Indians to bo the “right, though guilty,"
d(‘scendauts of the sacred tribes, he Hatters them with an acknow¬
ledgment of thc'ir antiquity, the only point on which a white can
cap^vatc and even blind the shrewd though untutored man of^the
wilds. *

In explanation of the plans and proceedings of Joe Smith amd
the Mormon.s, it may not bo amiss to make some remarks upon the
locality which he has designed as the seat of his empire and domi¬
nion, and where ho has already established his followers, as tho
destined instruments of his ambition.

According to the Mormon prophets, the whole region of country
between th<* Kocky Mountains and the Alleghanies was, at a period
of about thirteen hundred years ago, densely peopled by nations
descended from a Jewish family, who emigrated from Jerusalem
in th(' tim(‘ of the prophet Jeremiah, some si.v or seven hundred
years ]>efore Christ; immense cities were foimded, and sumptuous
edifices roared, and the whole land overspread with the results of
a high and extensive civilization.

Tlie^Book of Mormon speaks of cities with stupendous stone walls,
and of battles, in wliich hundreds of thousands were slain. Tho
laud afterwards b(?came a waste and howling wilderness, traversed
by a few straggling bands or tribes of savages, descended from a
branch of tho aforesaid Jewish family, Avho, in consequences of
their wickedness, had their complexion changed from white to red;
but the emigrants from Europe and their descendants, having filled
the land, and God having been pleased to grant a revelation, by
which is made known the true hLstory of the past in America, and
the events wliich are about to take place, ho has also commanded
the Saints of the Latter Day to asserabU' themselves together there,
and occupy the land wliich was once held by tlie members of the
true church.

The states of Missouri and Illinois, and the territory of Iowa,
are the regions to which the prophet has hitherto chiefly directed
his schemes of aggrandizement, and which are to form the nuolens
of tho Mormon empire. The remaining states are to be licked np
like salt, and fall before the sweeping falchion of glorious prophetic

286 TRAVELS AWD ADVfiTJTtrRES Oi’

dominion, like the defenceless lamh before the mii^hty king of the
forest.

I iiavc given the results of my notes taken relative to tlu' ■Mor¬
mons, not, perhaps, in very chronoU>gieal order, bnt as I gathered
them fi'om time to time. Tlie reader will agree with nu*, that the
subject is well worth attention. Absurd and ridiculous as the
creed may Ik*, no creed (‘ver, in ho short a period, obtained so many
or such devoted prostdytes. From infoi’inatiou I ha^e since re¬
ceived, they may now amount to three hundri’d thousaiul; and they
have wealth, energy, and unity—they ha^e i‘Verything—in their
favour; and the federal govermnetvt has been so long jjassive, that
1 doubt if it has the pow-er to disperse them. Indeed, to obtain
their political support, they have recf'iv«>d so man^' advant;iges, aud
I mpy say, such assistanr^e, that fluy are now so strong, that any
attempt to wrest from them tlu* priA ileges which have bpeu 4 "on-
ceded Avould be the signal for a gfuieral i-isiiig.*

They have fortified Naiivoo; tlx-y can turn out a disciplined
force as largo as the States are likely to oppose to them, and if
successful, can always eA'pcct the co-operation of sovtmty thousand
-Indians, or if debated, a retreat among them, which will enable
thenx to eoalesce for a moro fortunate opportunity of aetioii.
Neither do I imagine that tin* loss of their loader, Jt>e Smith, would
now much aflect their strength; there are jdenty to rophuKj him,
equally capable, not, perhaps, to have formed the eoufederaey, reli¬
gious and political, which ho has done, hut to uphold it, ntnv that
it is so strong. The United State.s api)ear to me to bo just now in
a most peculiar state of progression, ai)«t very soon the ovi'S of tht*
whole world will be directed towards them and the result of their
institutions. A change is about to take place; what that change
Tvill be, it is difficult to say; but a few years will decide the
question.

UONSlCtTB VIOLET.

ClIAPTEll XIJII.

Having now related the prhieipal e\<‘iit,s w'hieh I witnessed, or in
which I was an actor, 1)oth in (California and in Texas, as these
countries are still new and but little hnown (for indood, the Texians
th('mselv»s know nothinst of their inland country), I will attempt a
topographical sketch of these rei^ious, and also make some remarks
upon the animals vvliich inhabit the immense prairies and moun¬
tains of the wildt'rness. ^

AI»n" the shores of the Paoitic Ocean, from the 42” down to tho
,'{4’North, the elimah^ is much th(‘ same; the only dillerence be¬
tween the winter and summer heini? (hat the nights of the former
season art* a little (diilly. Thf^ causes of fliis mildness in the tem¬
perature art* obvious. The eold winds of the north, rendered
sharper still by pasciup o\ er the .snows and ices of the great northern
lak<‘.s, cannot force their passage across the rwky chain south of
tlu* latitude 41 \. b(Mtig prevented by a belt of high mountains or
by impeneti-ahle forests. To the eastward, on the contrary, they
are felt very sev erely; not encountering any kind of obstacles, they
sw'<‘ep tlieir euurse to the very sliores of the Gulf of Mexico, so that
in 2(j’ N. latitude, on the southern hoimdarit's of Texas, winter is
still winter; tli.at is to say, fire is neoesSiiry in the apartments
during the month of January, and Ihumtd and cloth dresses are
worn; while, im the contrary, the same month on the shores of the
Pacilie, up to is mild enough to allow strai\gcrs from the south,
and even the Sandwieli islanders, to wear their light nankeen
trowser.s and gingham round-about.s.

There is also a w'ide ditferenee between the two coasts of the
eontinent during summer. In Upper (California and the Shoshone
territory, although the heat from the rays of the sun is intense, the
temperature is so cooled both b}* the mountain and sea-breeze, as
never to raise tho mervmry to more than 9.j” Fahrenheit, even in
St. Hieg(>, which lio.s under the parallel of 32’ 39'; while in the east,
from 27” In South Texas, and 30" at New Orleans, up to 49” upon
l^akc Superior, tho rav'rctiry rise.s to 100” every year, and frequently
105”, 107” in St. Louis, in Prairie du Uliieii, Green Bay, St. An¬
thony’s Falls, and the Lake Superior.

The resume of this is simply that tho climate of tho western coast
of Ameriea is the finest in the world, with an air so pure, that
during the intense heat of summer a bullock, killed, cleansed, and
cut Into slices, will keep for months without any salting or
smoking.

KJ8 TUAVELS AND ADVENTUBES OE

Another cause which contributes to render these countries hoaK hy
and pleasant to live in is, that there are, properly speakinj^, no
swamps, marshes, nor bayous, as in tlu; United States and in the*
neighbourhood of Acapulco, and West ISIexico. Those lakes and
bayous drying during summer, and exposing to the rays of tin* sun
millions of dead fish, impregnate tlie atmosphere, uilh miasnm,
generating typhus, yellow fevm*, d3’Sentories, and pulmonary
diseases.

If the reader will look o\er the map I have sketched of the
Shoshone country, ho will perceive how woU tlie land is watered;
the lakes are all transparent and deep, the rivers run upon a roi'l.y
bottom as well as all the brooks and creeks, the waters of which
are always cool and plentiful. One more, observation to eonvinee
the reader of the superiority of the dime is, that, except a lew ants
in tne forests, there arc no insects whatever to be foxind. ISio^pus-
quitoos, no prairie horse-flies, no bi*elles, ‘opt the coconilla or
large phosphoric of California, and but very few worms and
caterpillars; the consequence is, that there are but two or three
classes of the smaller species of carnivorous bird*;; the large ones,
such as the common and red-hc^idod vulture and crow', are very
convenient, fulfilling the office of general scavengers in tlxe prairies,
where every year thousands of wild cattle die, either from lighting,
or, when in the central deserts, from the want of water. On the
western coast, the aspect of the country, in general, is gently
diversified; the monotony of the prairie,s in the interior bx-ing
broken by islands of fine timber, and new and tlien by mountains
projecting boldly from their bases. N.ar the sea-shore the plains
are intersected by various ridges of mountains, giving birth to
thousands of small rajjid streams, which carr^' their cool and
limpid waters to the many trilndaries of the sea, wliich are vor^'
numerous botw’Ci'ii the mouth of the Calumet and iJuoiiaventura.
Near to the coast lies a belt of lofty pines and .shady odoriferous
magnolias, which exltmds in some places to the* very beach and
upon the high cliffs, under which the shore is so bold that the
largest man-of-war could sail without d;ingcr. I remember to hav(‘
<mce seen above tlie bay of San Francisco, the sailors of a Mexican
brig sittmg on the ends of their topsail yards, and jiicking the
flowers from the branches of the trees as tliey glided by.

In that part of the country which is intersected by mountains,
the soil is almost everywherej mineral, while the moimtains them¬
selves contain rich mines of copiier. I know of beds of gailena
extending for more than a hundred miles; and in some tracts,
magnesian earths cover an immense portion of the higher ridges.
Most of the sandy streams of tlie Shoshone territory contain a
gr^t deal of gold dust, which the Indians collect twice a year, and
<e^hange away with the Mexicans, and also with the Arrapahoes.
, :irhe principal streams containing gold are tributaries to the

MONSUain TlOLF/r,

289

Buomvrntura, but tlii’ro are many otliers emptying into small
liikoh of volcanic Ibrnnation. Tho mountains in the neighbourhood
oftlic ('olorada oCtIjo West, and in the v»TV country of the Arra-
pahoc^, ar('/ull of silver, and lu'rhaiis no people in the world can
show a gjv'ai('r prolusion oJ’this brialit melal than these Indians.

Tlie Slioshone territory is of modern formation, at least in com¬
parison with the more soutluTn countries where the Cordillicres
and the Andes proj<'et to th(' very shores of tho ocean. It is evi¬
dent that th(* best portion of the laud, west of the BuonaA''eiitura,
was first ri'doemed iV<*rn the .s«s'i liy sonje terrible volcanic eruption.
Until about Ivvo centuries ago, or ])erliaps less, these subterranean
fires hav(' e(mtinii('d to cxereiso tludr rav'ages, raising prairies into
mountains, and ,■linking mountains and forests many fathoms below
the surface of the eartli; tlieir sites now marked by lakes of clear
and f^'anspar<*nt water, frequently impregnated with a slight, though
not unpk'asant, ta>t*^of sulphur; while }>r('eious stones, such as
topazes, sapphires, large blocks of ameth_ysts, are found every day
in the sand and among the pebbli s on their borders. •

In caltn dav ^ 1 hiivv often .^e(‘n, at a few fathoms de('p, the tops
of pine trees stilf si unding in their natural perpendicular position.
In tho southern streams are found emeralds of Yer)" fine water;
opals also are very frequently met with.

The formation of the rocks is in gimm'al ba.saitic, butvwhite,
lilaek, and greim marble, red porphyry, jasper, rod and grdy gra¬
nite, abound *‘asl of the Buonaventurii. Quartz, uiion some of the
mountains lU'ar the , sea-shore, i.s found in iinmensf' idocks, and
principally in that mountain range which is desiguatod in my map
a.s tho “ klontagne du Mon.stre," at the foot of wliicli were dug up
tlic remains of tlie huge t^anrian Lizard.

The great(T portion of the country Ls, of course, prairie; these
prairkis are covered with blue grass, muski'ct grass, clovers, sweet
prairie hay, and tho other gra.sses common to the east of the conti¬
nent of America. Here and there are scattered patclie.s of plums
of the greon-gage kind, berries, and a peculiar kind of shrub oaks,
never more than five feet high, yi'l bearing a very large and sweet
acorn; ranges of hazelnuts will often extend thirty or forty miles,
and are the abode of millions of birds of the richest and deepest
dyes.

Along the streams which glide through the prairies, there is a
luxuriant grow th of noble timber, such as maple, magnolia, blue and
green ash, red oak, and cedar, around which climb vines loaded
with grapes. Near tlie seit-shores, the pine, both black and white,
becomes exceedingly common, while the smaller plains and hills are
covered with that peculiar .species of the jirickly pear upon which
the cochineal insect feeds. All round the extinguished volcano, smd
principally in the neighbourhood of the hill Nanav/a Ashta jueri d,
tho locality of our settlement upon the banka of the Buonaventura,

290 TRAVELS AnVEMTLIRh.T Of

the bushes are covered with a very superior (jnality ot’ the \anilla
bean.

The rivers and stream*?, a*? well a<? the lakes of tlu* inferior,
abound with fish; in the latter, the ]>oreh, trout, .'irel carp are very
common; in the former, the salmon and while-cat fish, the soft-
shelled tortoise, the pearl oyster, the sea-perch (fnipus Maritimes),
the ecrivisse, and himdrod families of tfie “ crevettt^ species,” offer
to the Indian ap’cat variety of delicate food for the winter. In the
bays along' the shore, the inaekerel and bonita, the turtle, and, tin-
fortunately, the sharks, are v('ry numerous; while on the shelly
beach, or in the fissures of the roeks, are to la- found lobsters, and
crabs of various sort s.

The whole country offers a vast field to the naturalisl; the most,
common birds of prey are the bald, tho white-headeti eagle, the
black and tho grey, the falcon, the common hawU, the eptu-viej? tho
black and red-headed vulture, the raven and (Mk* crow. Among the
granivorom, tlie ‘turkey, the wapo (a small kind of prairie ostrich),
the golden and common pheasant, the wdld pcac(»ek, of a dull
whitish colour, and the guinea-fowl; these two last, w Inch arc very
numerous, are not indigenous to this part of the country, but about
a century ago escaped from the various missions of Upper (‘alifor-
nia, at which they had bceii bri'd, and since liavu prop:vgatc(l iu
incredible numbers; also the grouse, the prairio lu n, the* j)artridge,
the quail, the green parrot, the blackbird, and many othi-rs wdiich
I cannot name, not knowing their generic denominatioTi. Tho
water-fowls are plentiful, .such as sw'an.s, geese, ducks of many dif¬
ferent species, and the Canadian geese vith their long black necks,
which, from November, to March, graze on the prairies in thou¬
sands.

The quadrupeds are also much direr.sified. First in rank, antong
the grazing animals, I may name the nuistangs, or wild horses,
which wander in the natural pastures in herds ot hundreds of thou¬
sands. They vary in speei^.s and size, according to tlio country
where they are found, but tho.se found in California, Senora, and
the western district of Texas, are the firro.st breed in tho "amrld.,
Ihey "were imported from Andalusia by the Spaniards, almost im¬
mediately after the conquo.st (<f Grimadn.—the llishop of Leon
having previously, by his praycr.s, “ o.\orcised the d('vil out of their
bodies."

Mr. Catlin says, that in seeing the Comancho horse, ho was much
disappointed; it is likely, Mr. Catlin having only visited the
northern borders of Texas, and tho pooro.st village of tho whole Co¬
manche tribe.. If, however, he had proce.edcd as far as the ftio
^iPtierco, he would have soon tho true Mecca breed, with which the
JMoslaas conquered Spain. lie would liavo al'^o perceived how
inuch tlie advantages of a beautiful clime aud perpetual pasture has
these noble animals, making them superior to the prlmi-

MOMSIKUn VIOLET.

291

i tivo stock; both in size, speed, and bottom. With one of them I
made a journey of five thousand miles, and on arriving in Missouri,
I sold him for eight hundred dollars. Ho was an entire horse, as
whit(‘ as snosv, and standing seventeen and a half hand.s high. One
thousand pounds would not have ])urchased him in England.

TSe\t, the li>rdly hufluloi's, the swift wild-goat, the door, the ante¬
lope*, the elk, Iht* prairie dogs, the hare, and the rabbits. The
earnivoroiLS are the rod panther, or puma,* the spotted leopard, the

* The piitna, or red j'lxnlher, is also called “ American lion,” “ cougar,” and in
tlic western states, “ catamount ’’ It was once spread all over the continent of
America, and is oven now found, although very rarely, as far north as Hudson's
Bay. No matter under what latitude, the puma is a sanguinary aninud; hut
his strength, size, and thirot of liluod, vary with the clime.

I have killed tlris animal in ('alifornin, in the Rocky Mountains, in Texas,
and in Missouri; in eac'h of tli(‘sc places it presented quite a different eharaoier.
In ('ftli, it Ims the ItreiwUh and limh.s approaching to those of the African lion j
to the far north. It tails awaj in bulk, until it as thin and agile as the hunting
leojiard. In Missouri and Arkansas, the puma will prey oblefly upon fowls sod
young pigs; it will run away fjorn dogs, cows, horses, and even from goats.
In Ixiuisiana and Te.xas, it will run from man, hut it fights the dogs, tears the
liorscs, and kills the cattle, even the wild buffalo, merely for sport- In the
Anahuar, Cordillieres, and Rocky mountains, it disdains lo fly. Incomes more
majestic in its movoinents, and faces its opponents, from a grizzly bear to a
whole comiiany of traders j yet It w*ili seldom attack unless while cubbing. In
Wenora and (California It is even more ferocious. "When hungry, it will hunt by
the scent, like tho dog, with its nose on the ground. Meeting a trail, it follows
it at the rate of twenty miles an hour, till It can pounce upon a prey; a single
horseman, or an army, a deer, or ten thousand buffaloes, it cares not, It attacks
everj thing,

1 did not like to interrupt my narratiie merely to relate a puma adventure;
but during tlie time that I was with the Comanches, a Me.\ican priest, who bad
for a long time sojourned as instructor among the Indians, arrived in the great
village Oil his way to St. I/Onis Mi, where he was proceeding on clerical affairs.
The Comanchi'i. received him with affection, pave him a fresh mule, with new
blankets, and rnustcrtsl a small party to accompany him to the Wakoes Indians.

The Padre was a highly talented man, above the prejudices of his cast; he
had lived tho best part of his life in the wilderness amgng the wild tribes on
both sides of the Aualmar, and Iiad observed and learned enough to make him
love “ these children of nature.” So much W’aa 1 pleased with him, that I
offered to command the party which was to accompany him. My request was
granted, and having provided ourselves witli a long tent and the necessajry pro¬
visions, we started on our journey.

Nothing remarkable happened till wo arrived at the great chasm I haara
already mentioned, when our provihiOns lieing much reduced, we pitched the
tent on tlic very edge of the chasm, and dedicated half a day to hunting find
grazing our horses. A fevr deer were killed, and to avoid a nocturnal attack
fronttlic wolves, which wen very numerous, w'O hung the meat upon the cross
pole inside of the tent. The teut itself wras about forty feet long, and about
seven in breadth ; large fires were lighted at the two ends, piles of wood weta
gathered to feed them during the night, and an old Indian and I took upon tU
the responsibility of keeping tho fires alive till the moon should be up.

These arrangements being made, w*o spread our buffalo-hides, with bw sad¬
dles for pillows, and, as we wore all exhausted, we stretched ourselves, if n©t tP
Sleep, at least to repose. The padre aroused mo, during the major portion

292 TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF

ounce, the jaguar, tbu grizzly, black, Stul bnnvn beai*5, the wolf, •
black, white, and gi'ey; Ihe blue, r(vl, and Ijlack foxes, the badger,
the porcupine, the hodgeliog, and the eoati (an animal peculiar to
the Shoshone lerritory, and Upper Caliu>rnia), a kind of mixture
of the fox and wolf breed, fu'ree little aniuvils with bushy tails and
large heads, and a quick, Rharji bark.

of my watch, in relating to me his past adventures, whcti he followed the exam¬
ple of all the Indians, who W'cre till sound asleep, cxoi't the one wateinng at the
other extremity of the tout. This Indian observed to me that the moon w'ould
lino in a couple of hours, and that, if wo weiv to throw a sufficient quantity of
fuel on the fire, wc could also slee]) without any fear. 1 replenished the fuel,
and wrapping myself in iny "blanket, I soon fell asleep.

I awoke suddenly, thinking I hail heard a rubbing of some l)otl.v against the
canvass outside of the tent. My Arc was totally extinguished, but, tlie moon
having risen, gave considor,'iblo light. The hour of danger had passed. A,s I
raised my head, T pereeived that tlic fire at the other opening of the trait was
also nearly extinguished , 1 wrapt myself still closcfi as the night had oecoroe
cool, and soon slept as soundly as before.

Once more 1 was awakened, but thi.s time there was no delusion of the souses,
for 1 felt a heavy pressure on my chest. J opened my eyes, and could scarcely
refrain from crying out, when I pereeived that the weight which had thus dis¬
turbed my .sleep was nothing less than the hind paw of a large puma. T'herc he
stood, his back turned to me, and seeming to watch with great a\ idity a dec'r-
shoulder suspended above his head. My feelings at that moment were anything
but pleasant; I felt my heart beating high, the smallest nervous mosement.
which perhaps 1 could not control, w'ould divert the attention of the animal,
whose claws would then immediately enter my tlesh.

1 advanced my right hand towards the holster, under my head, to take one of
my pistols, but the holsters wiTi' huttoni'd up. and I could not undo them, a.s
this would require a slight motioi of my hotly At last 1 felt the w eiglit slid¬
ing down my ribs till it left me, and 1 perce vc*d, that in order to take a Ix'tter
leap at the meat, the puma had moved on a little to the left, but in so doing one
of his fore paw's rested upon the chest of the padte. I then obtained one of
the pistols, and was just in the act ol eucldng it under my blanket, when J
heard a mingled shriek and roar. Then sncceodcd a terrible scnflling. A
blanket was for a second rolled over me; the canvass of tlie tent was burst open
a foot above rne; I heard a heavy fell down the chasm; the padre scrcarned
again; by accident 1 pulled the trigger and discharged my pistol, and thif In¬
dians, not knowing what was the matter, gave a tremendous war-whoop.

The scene I have described in .so many linos w'as i>criormed in a few second.?.
It was some time before wc could recover our senses and inquire into the mat¬
ter. It appeared, that at the very moment the puma was ci'ouching to take his
leap, the padre, awaking, gave the scream; this terrified the animal, who
dashed through tlic canvass of the tent above me with the padre’s blanket
entangled in his claws.

Poor padre! he had fainted, and continued senseless till daylight, when I
bled him with penkmfe. Fear had produced a terrible effect upon him,
and his hair, whiiffi the evening before was as black as jet, had now changed to
the whiteness of snow. Ho never recovered, notwithstanding the attention
shown to him by the Indians who accoiniianied him to 8t. Louis. Reason had
forsaken its seat, and, as I leAmcd some time afterwards, when, being in St.
Louis, 1 went to the mission to inquire after him, he died two days after Ids
arrival at the Jesuits’ college.

As to the puma, the Indians found it dead at the bottom of the chasm, com-
wrap]^ in the blanket, and with most of its bones broken.

MOA'SlBUn VIOLET.

293

The amphibious aro the b(>av<*r, tho freshwater and sea otter; the
' musk-rat, and a species of Innsf lizard, wdth sharp teeth, very like
tlio cayman as regards the head anrl tail, but with a very short
body. It is a v<>ry ficrc<' aniinal, killin']^ whatever it attacks, dwcU-
inp; in <larnp, ^fiadv places, in tho Juncks, upon tho borders of some
lake's, and is much dreaded by the Indians; fortimatoly, it is very
scarce. Tho SliOsiionos havj* no ))articular name for it, but would
sooner attack a ptrizzly l)ear tlian this animal, which they have a
great dread of, sornc'times calling it the evil spirit, sometimas the
scourge, and many othfu* .such appellations. It ha.s never yet been
described by any naturalist, and I never yet saw one dead, although
I ha\t> lioard of their having been killed.

In Texas, tho country ])rt'sent.s two different aspects, much at
varianc(‘ wdtli each otluT, the <'a.storn borders and sea-coast being
only ^ continual ion of the cypress swamj).s, mud creeks, and cane-
brakes of soulli Arka'fsas, and west Louisiana; while, on the con*
trary, the north and ;vest oiler rnneh the saim> topography as that
of tho countru's f hare just dt lineated. The climate in Texas is
very hoaUhytw o hundred mile.s from tlui sea, and on(5 hundred west
of llie Sabine, which forms the eastern boundary of Texa.S; but to
the east and south tin- same di.si>ases and ojjidemics prevail as in
Ivouisiana,, Alabama, and the Floridas.

The whole ot Te.xas is evhh'iilly of r<'cent formation, all the
saline prairies east of the Itio Grande being oven now covered with
shellsol all the species common to tin* (Hulf of iMexieo,mixed up with
skeUdons ol sharks, and now and then with petrified turtle, dol-
pliin, rock fish, and bonitas. A tew feet below the surface, and
hundreds of miles distant from the sea, 1h(> sea-sand is found; and
although the ground .‘=cems to rise gradually as it recede.s from the
shores, the southern plains arc; but a vc'ry little elevated above the
surface of the sea until you arrive at thirty degrees north, when
the prairies begin to as.sume an undulating form, and continually
ascend till, at tho foot of the lloeky Mountains, they acquire a
hciight of four and five thousand feet above’ tho level of the sea.

Texas doc.s ncjt possc'ss anj' range* of mountains, with the excep¬
tion that, one hundred miles north from San Antonio de BejaV,
the San Seba hills rise* and extend themselve.s in a line parallel
with the Rocky Mountains, as liigh as tho green peaks in tho
neighbourhood of Santa I'e. The San Seba hills contain several
mines of silver, and I doubt not that this metal is very common
along the whole range e'lst of the Rio Grande. Gold is also found
in great quantities in all the streams tributary to the Rio Pucrco,
but I have never hoard of pr»’cin\is stoju's t;f any kind.

Excepting the woody di.slricts wiiicli border Louisiana and
Arkansas, the greater proportion of Texas is prairie; a belt of
land commences upon one of the b(;ud,s of the river Brazos, spreads
northward to the very shores of the Red River, and is Q^lled by

294 THAVELS AND AOVEIiXOKES OF

the Americans “The Cross Timbers;" its natural i)roduetions,
together with those of the prairies, are similar to those of the
Shoshone countrj'. Before the year 183(), and I dare say even now,
the great western i>rairies of Texas ec)Titained more animals and a
greater variely ofspeeios than any other ])art of the world Avilhin
the same number of square mile\s; and I believ»'that the Sundcr-
bunds in Bengal do not contain monsters nifire hideous and terrible
than are to be found in the raslern portion of Texas, over which
nature appears to have spread a inaledietion. Tin) myriads of
snakes of all kind*-, the unacenuiitable diversity of venomous rep¬
tiles, and even the deadly tarantula spider, or “vatnpirt'” of the
prairies, are trifles compared with the awful inhabitants of the
eastern bogs, swamps, and muddy rivers. The former are really
dangerous only during two or three mouth.N of the 3 'ear, and, raore-
ovpr, a considerable portion of the trails ai e free from their pre¬
sence, owing to th(' tires whi(*h break out iij tlu* dry grass aKoost
every fall. Then‘ the traveller knou-, what he lias to fear, and,
indep -’iident of the instinct and kniiwh'dgi* of his hor.se, ho himself
keeps an anxious look-out, wati'hingXhe unJulatjng motion of the
grass, and ever ready with Ids rifle or pistols in tlu' event of his
being confronted with bear.s, pumas, or any other ferocious quad¬
ruped. If ho is attacked, he can fight, and only few aceich'nts have
ever happened in these encounters, a.s these animals always wander
alone with the exception of the wolf, from w hom, however, there is
but little to fear, as, in the prairies, tliis animal is always glutted
wdth food and timid at the approach of man.

As the prairie woJfe is et'(ireJy ihffercut from the European, 1
will borrow a page of Ross Co ', who h; > ing had an opportunity of
meeting it, gives a very good de.s(Ti]!lion of its manners and ways
of living. Yet as this traveller dof s not describe the animal it.self,
I will add, that the geniTal colour of the prairie w'olf is grey mixed
with black, the ears are round and straight, it is aliout forty inches
long, and possesses the .sagacity and cunning of the fox:—

“The prairie wolves,” says Cox, “arc much HiiaUcr than those which inha¬
bit the woods. They generally travel together in inimbcrH, an(3 a Holilary one
is seldom met with. Two or thr«j of us have often pursuwJ from fifty to one
hundred, driving them before us a., iiuickly as our hnr.srs (‘ould eliarge.

“ Their skins are of no value, and wo do not tlKTofore waste much powder
and ball in shouting tliem. Tiie Indians, who are oldiged to pay dear for their
ammunition are equally careful not to tiirow' it away on ohjoots that iiring no
remunerating value. The natural eonseqiienw is, that the wolves arc allowed
to multiply; and some parts of the eountry are completely overrun by them.
The Indians catch numbers of them ni traps, which they set in the vicinity of
those placeB whtroAheir tame hoi'sr s nre M-nt to graze The traps are merely
excavations covered over with ‘luln swilelns and lioy, and huitMl wiili meat,
&c into whieji the wolv. s fi’i, and beinL' onali'* to evtrienl 'themselves, they
perish by famine or the Ui.ife of tin- tndiiiii Tlnsr-d striietivu uliimiiisannu-
uliy destroy immbm of liorhos, particularly dm ing the winter season, when tho
Ifttter g«t anttuigled in the snow, in winch situation they become an easy prey

MONPIIJ U VlOITiT.

to tlidr lif;};t-fi)oted pursuers, ten or fifteen of which will often fasten on one
aninml, and with their long lungs in a lew minutes soparato the head from the
body. It, however, the Jioi’''C.s are not prevented from using their legs, they
eointtime.-i jjuin^h the ciieeiv' .‘.overfly, as an instance of Ihi'-, I saw one morn*
ing the hodies of tuo of our hoi sis v, Incli liu'l bien killed the night before, and
around were lying I'iglit rlLud and niajinert w'ohea; some with their brains
.•■eattend about, and others with tiiiir limbs .'tnd ribs broken by the hoofs of
th“liniouB aimual.s in their vain utiempts to escape from their semguinary
iiss.iUauth,'*

Although llu* vvoht's of Amorh :i are the mo.st daring of all the
liea.slii of prey on that omitinont, llicy ut'o by no moans so eourage-
oit.s or ft’rocious as those of Kurope, particularly in Spain or the
south of France, in which countrit's they commit dreadful ravages
botli on man and beast; whereas a prairie wolf, except forced by
flo.sporalion, will .sildoin or never attack a human being. j

jThuve said that danger that attends flic traveller in the great
prairio.s is tritliiig; but it is \cry difloront in the eastern sw^amps
and nnul-lioh'.^, whore tli(‘ enemy, over on the watch, is always
invi.sible, and wliero the .speed ot t ho horse and the arms of tho
rider are of no avail, fur they arc then feuimniing in the deep water,
or splashing, breast di>cp, in the foul mud.

Among these monsti'rs of tlie sw'arnps and lagoons of stagnant
waters, the aJligatoi- ranb.s the first in .size and voracity; yet man
has nothing to b ar from him; and thougli there are many stories
among tlie eotloii planler.s about negroes being carried away by
tins immon.se reiuili*, 1 do firmly believe* that few human beings
have* i“V(*r boiii .seized Jdive by the American alligator. But
altliough luiiank's.s to man, the monster is a scourge to all kinds of
animals, and prineiiially to dogs and horses. It often happens that
a rider lo.se.s las track tiiroiigh a .swaimp or a muddy canebrake,
and then, if u mwv comer in East Tc'xas, he is indubitably lost.
Whil<‘ his poor .sti'odis vainly struggling in a yielding mass of mud,
he will fall into a liolo, and before he can regain his footing, an
iiTcslstible force will drag hiui deeper and deeper, till smothered.
This forc(; is tin* tail of t lie alligator, with which this animal masters
its prey, no matt(*r how strong or licavy, when onco within its
reach. M. Audubon has perfectly described its power; I will repeat
his word.s:—

'* The power of tlic alligatorin its groat strciigtli, and the chief ineaus of
Us attack or defence is its large tail, bo well contrived by nature to eupply his
wants, or guard him from danger, that it reaches, when curved into a half-circle,
to his enormous mouth. "Woe lio to him wdio goes within reach of this tre¬
mendous tliroshing instrument; for, no niaUer how strong or muscular, If
human, he must .sulFer grcally, if lie rscai«j witli life. The monster, as be
strikes with tins, I’orocH all objects vvitliiii tlie circle towards his jaws, wblclii, M
the tail ifiakes a motion, are opened to their full stretch, thrown a little sidewaj's
to receive tho object, and, like battering-rams, to bruise it shockingly In a
moment.”

ANO AnVE\TrJB1.3 OF

296

Yet, as I have said, the alliirator is but little forruidablt* to man.
In Western Louisiana and Ea^tc'rn Texas, n here 1 he animal is much
hunted for the sake of his greas(‘, with which the ])lanters "onorally
oil the machinery oi their mills, little negroes an' generally sent
into the woods, duriii" the fall, “i,Teas<‘-inabini','' as at that season
the men are bt'tter employed in cotton-pichini!: or storing the maize.
Ko danp:er ever happens to the urchins diirin^^ the.se expeditions, as,
keeping nithin the sneep uf tlu' tail, they eontrhi' to eli(»p it oft'
with an axe.

M, Audubon says;—

“ When nutunin lias heidhtened tlio eolouriii" of tlic foliage of our woixls,
and the air feels more I'aritied dining the nights and the early part of the day,
the alligators leave tlie lakes to setk for iMiiU'r-t|uarters, by liurrowing
under the roots of tree.s, or covering thcnisehes <>nnplv with eartli along their
edge8| 'J’hcy become then icry languid and maetive, and, at this period, io sit
or ride on one would not he more ditlieult than for a child to mount Ids ivcf .den
rocking-horse. The negroes, wlio now kill tlieni, imt all danger aside by
separating, at one blow with an axe, the tail from the body. They are afterwards
cut up in large ideoLS, and boiled whole in a good quantity of uater, from the
surface of which the fat eolleetod with large ladles. t)nc single man kills
oftentimes a domi or more of large alligators in the eieniiig, prepares his fire in
tlie woods, where he has erected a camp tor llie puritcsc, and by morning ba.s
the oil extracted. ”

As soon as the rider feels bis horse siukinf!:, tlie first mo^emeni,
if an inexperienced traveller, is to throw him.st'lf from the saddle,
and endeavour to wade or to swim to tbo eunebrakes, the roots of
which give to the ground .i certain degree of stability. In that
case, bis fato i.s jirobably sea'ed, a.s he is in inmiediate danger of
the “cawana.” This i.s a terrible at' i hideous monster, with
nhich, strange to say, the natnralisis of Liiro}>o are not yet
acquainted, though it is too well kmiwn to all the inhabitants
of the .streams and kigoons ti-ibutary to the Ked Iliver. It is an
enormous turtle or toHoi,s(', with the bead and tail of tlic alligator,
not rc'tractile, as is usual among the ditlerent spi'cies of this reptile;
the shell i.s one inch and a-half thick, and as imiienetrahle a.s st<'el.
It lies in holes in the bottom of muddy rivc'rs or in the swampy
cancbrake.s, and measures often ten feet in length and six in
breadth over the shell, inde])cndent ot' the head and tail, which
must give often to this dreadlul mon.sti'r tlu' length of twenty feet.
Such an unwieldy mass is not, of eour,‘:e, cajiable of any rapid
motion; but in the swamps 3 mention tin y are very numerous, and
the unfortunate man or beast going astray, and leaving for a
moment the small patches of solid ground, formed by the thicker
clmters of tli(3 canes, mu.st of a. necessity eomi' wiithiii the reach of
one of these powerful ercatnrc'b jaws, always extended and ready
for prey.

Cawanas of a large size have never J>cen taken alive, though
often, in draining the lagoon.s, sliells have been Ibund measuring
twelve feet in length. Tin; planters of Upper 'SV'’cstern Louisiana

MONSI£U& VIOLKT.

297

f have often fislied to procure them for scientific acquaintances, but,
although they take hundrc'tls of the smaller ones, they could never
succeed to drag o!i shore* any of tlu; largo ones after they have
‘been hooked, as these monsters bury their claws, head, and tail so
deep ill the mud, that no powi'r siiort of steam can make them
i ri'linquish their liold.

Some officers of the United States army and land surveyors,
sent on tin* Ib'd River by th<^ government at Washington, for a
montli, took up their residence at Captain Fhm’s. One day, when
the conversation had fallen upon the eawana, it was resolved that
a trial should be made to ascertain the strength of the animal. A
heavy iron hand-pike Avas transformed by u blacksmith into a large
hook, which was fixed to an iron chain belonging to the anchor of
a small steam-boat, and as that extraordinary fishing-tackle was
not oji a suffici<*nt th<*y added to it a hawser, forty fathi^ms

in length and of the sile of a woman's wrist. Tiio hook was baited
with a lamb a fi;w days old, and thrown into a deep hole ten yards
from the shore, whore Captain Finn knew that one of the monsters
was located; the extremity of the hawser w^as made fast to an old
eotton-trei'.

Laic ill the evening of the second day, and as the rain poured
dow’ii in torrents, a negro slave ran to the house to announce that
the bait had been taken, and every one rushed to the river side.
They sa^v that, in fact, the hawser w’as in a state of tension, but
the woatlier being too bad to do anything that evening, they put it
off till the next morning.

A stout Iiorsi' was procured, who soon dragged the hawser from
the water till the chain became visible, but all further attempts of
the animal weri! in vain: after the most strenuous exertion, the
liorse could not conquer the resistance or gain a single inch. The
visitors were puzzled, and Finn then ordered one of the negroes to
bring a couple of powerful oxen, yoked to a gill, employed to drag
out the stumps of old trees. For many minutes the oxen were
lashed and goaded in vain; every yarn of the hawser was strained
to the utmost, till, at bust, the tw^o brutes, uniting all their strength
in one vigorous and final pull, it was dragged from the water, but
the monster had escaped. The hook had straightened, and to its
barb w’cre attacheil pieces of thick bones and cartilages, which
must have belonged to the palate of the monster.

The unfortunate travelliT has but little chance of escaping with
life, if, from w'ant of experience, he is foundered in the swampy
canebrake.s. AVhen the horse sinks and the rider leaves the saddle,
the only thing ho can do is to retui'n back upon his track; but let
him beware of these solitary small patchc.s of briars, generally
three or four yards in circumference, w'hich arc spread here and
there on the edges of the caqobrakes, for there he will meet with
deadly reptiles and snakes unknown in the prairies; such as the

296 TKAVEliB AND AOVENTUUJiri 01‘

grey-ringed water moccassin, the brov\Ti viper, the black cougo
with red head and tht; cepper head, all of whom congi’egate, and
it may be said, make their nests, in these little dry oases, and tlieir
bite is followed b}' instantaneous death.

These are the dangers attending travellers in the swainjis, but
there are many others to be undergone in crossing lagoons, rivers,
OP small lakes. All the streams, tributaries of the Sabinii and ot'
the Red River below the great bend (which is twenty inih's north
of the Lost Prairie), have swampy banks and muddy bottoms, and
are impassable when the water is too low to permit the horses to
swim. Some of these streams have ferries, and some lagoons have
doating bridges in the neighbourhood of the plantations; but as it
is a new country, where government lias as y('t done nothing, these*
conveniences are private property, and the owner of a ferry, not
beihg bound by a contract, ferries only when ho chooses, aiy) at
the price he wishes to command. ^

I will relate a circumstance which will enable tlio reader to un¬
derstand the nature of tho country, and the diflticull ies of overland
travelling in Texas. Tho great Sulphur Fork is a tributary of the
Red River, and it is one of the most dangerous. Its approach can
only be made on both sides through belts of swampy canebt alies,
tea miles in breadth, and so diiUcult to ti*avel over, that the length
of the two swamp.s, short as it is, cannot be passed by a fresh and
strong horse in less than fourteen hours. At ju.st half-way of this
painful journey the river is to bo passed, and this cannot be done
without a ferry, for tho raoioeni you leave the CiUies, the shallow
water begins, and the bottom is .so soft that any object touching
it must sink to a depth of several fatlioms. Till 1834, no white
man lived in that district, and tho Indians resorted to it only dur¬
ing tho shooting season, always on foot and invariably provided
with half-a-dozen of canoes on each .side of the stream for their
own use, or for the benefit of travellers. The Texian.s are not so
provident nor so hospitable.

As the white population increased hi that jjart of the country, a
man of the name of Gibson erected a hut on the southern bank of
the stream, constructed a flat-boat, and began ferrying over at the
rate of three dollars a-hcad. As the immigration was very exten¬
sive, Gibson soon grew independent, and he entered into a kind of
partnership with the free bands which wore already organized.
One day, about noon, a land speculator presented himself on tho
other side of the river, and called for tho ferry. At that moment
the sky was covered with dark and heavy clouds, and flashes i
llj^tning succeeded each other in every direction; in fact, every¬
thing proved that tlie evening would not pass without one of those
ui^adful storms so common in that country during the months of
Aj^ril and May. Gibson .soon appeared in his boat, but mstcad of
casting it loose, he entered into a conversation.

MONSlXl/R VIOLRT.

299

“ Whure do you come from, ch?”

“ From the settlements," answered the stranger.

“ You’ve a tieklisli, lunddish kind of a river to pass."

“ Aye,” replied the; oilier, who vv.is fully awaro of it.

“ And a blackish, tlninderisli, damned storm behind you, I say.”

The traveller knew thattoo; and as he Ix'lieved that tlie conver¬
sation (;ould as well be carried on while crossing over, he added:

*• iMake haste, 1 pray, iny good man; I am in a hurry, and I should
not like to pass tlie niglit here in these canes for a hundred dollars.”

. “ Nor I, for a thousand,” answered Gibson. “ Well, stranger,
v\hat will you give me to ferry you over';""

“The usual fare, 1 suppose—tuo or three dollars."

“ Why, that may do tor a ])Oor man in fine weatlr r, and having
plenty of time to spare, but I bi* blessed il l take you for t^n tima.s
that money now that 3^111 are in so gri'al a luiriy and have su®h a
.stolen behind.” f

The traveller knew at onee he had to deal with a blackguard,
but as he was luinsidf an ArkaTi.sas man oi the genuine breed, he
resolved to givo liim a “ Uoland I'or an Oli\('r.”

“It is a shameful impositien," be cried: “hf>w much do you
want after allr”

“ 'Why, not a eont less than fittv dollars.'’

The slranfii^r tnrned Ids hor.s(> round, a.s if ho would go back;
but, after a tew moments, lie ri'luiued again.

“Oh," he cried, “ vou are a rogue, and take the opportunity of
my being in so great a hurry. Fll give you what you want, but
mind I never will pas.s this road again, and sliall iindoubtedlj’ pub¬
lish vour conduct in the Arkansas nowS])ai)rTS."

Gib.son chuckled with dehglit; he had Innnbugged a stranger,
and did not e.are a fig for all the newspapers In the w’orld; .so he
answered, “ WelcoTue to do what yon plea.se;” and, untvdng the
boat, be soon crossed the stream. IJefore allowing the stranger to
enter tin* ferr_y, Gibson dtunaiuled the mono}', wliich was given to
him under the shape of five ten-dolljir notes, w'liich he secured in
his pock(‘t, and then rowed with all his might.

On arriving on the other sidi*, the stranger led his horse out of
the boat, and whilKi Gibson W'as stooping down to fix the chain, he
gave him a kiidt on the tempks which sent, him reeling and .senseless
in his boat; then taking back his own money, he sprung upon his
saddle, and passing before the cabin, he gently advised Gibson's
wife to “ go and see, for her husband had hurt himself a little in
^ow ing.”

Tlu'se extortions arc so very frequent, and now so w'ell known,
that the pooriT classes of emigrants never apply for the ferries, but
attempt tlu* pa.ssage just as they can; and when w'e call to mind
that the hundreds of cases which are know'll and spoken of must
be but a fraction of those who have disappeared without leaving

TIlAVJCbS ASD ADVEJJXUrKUa OF

300

behind the smallest clue of their former existence and unhappy-
fate, the loss of human life u ithin the last four or five years must
have been awful.

Besides the alligator and the cawana, there are in those rivers
many other dostrnctivo animals of a terrible appearance, such as
the devil jack diamond fish, tlie saw- fish, the horn fish, and, above
all, the much dreaded gar. The first of these! is ofti'u taken in
summer in the lakes and l3ayous, which, deprived of water for a
season, are transformed into pastures; these lakes, liowover, have
always a channtd or deeper part, and tluuv* tfio devil jaek diamond
has been caught, ■weighing four hundred pounds and upwards.

The sau- fish is peculiar to the Mississippi and its tri])utari('S,
and varies in length from four tf) eight, feet. The horn fish i.s four
^ feet long, with a bony .substance on hi.s upper jaw, .strong, curved,
and‘‘one foot long, which ho (>ini)loy.s to attack hor.ses, oxeu^and
even alligators, Avhen pressed by hungcT. J3^t the gar fish is the
most terrible among the American ic-lithyology, and a Louisiana
writer describes it in the follou ing manne r_

“ Of the gar fish there are numerous varieties. Tin* alligator g.ar is somc-
titues ten feet long, aufl i.s voracious, fierce, and formidable, even to the human
species. Its dart in rapidity ecjuals the flight of a bird; its mouth is long,
round, and pointed, thick set with sharp teeth, its bod> is cozen’d with scale
so bard as to be impenetrable by a rifle bullet, and which, when dry, answers
the purposes of a flint in striking fire from .steel, its weight is from fifty to
four hundred pounds, and its appearance is hideous, it is in fact, the shark of
rivers, but more terrible than the shark of tlic sea, and is considered far moro
formidable tlian the alJigulor lilmscif."

It is, in fact a most terrilile animal. I have seen it more than
once seizing its prey, and dragging it down with the rapidily of an
arrow-. One day while I was residing at Captain Finn’s upon the
Red River, I saw one of the.se mon.sters enter a cret'k of transpa¬
rent water. Following him for curiosity, I soon pereeivcid that
he had not left the deep water w irhout an inducement, fiir just above
me there was an alligator devouring an otter.

As soon as the alligator perceived his formidable enemy, ho
thought of nothing but escape to the short'; lu* d*'<^'PPP^^^ prey
and began to climb, but he Avas too slow for thc' gar fish, who, with a
single dart, closed upon it with extended jaws, and seized it by tho
middle of the body, f could .see plainly ilirough tht» transparent
•water, and yet I did not perceive that the alligator made the least
struggle to escape from the deadly fangs; there was a hissing noise
as that of shells and bone.s cni.>licd, and thi' gar fish loft the creek
with his victim in his jaw.s, ,so nearly .severed in two, that the head
an^ tail were towing on each side of him.

Resides these, thc traveller through rivers and bayous has to
f many other enemies of less note, and but little, If at all, knowi\
to naturalists. Among these is the mud vampire, a kind of spider

MONSIEm VIOEET.

«

V 301

loGch, with sixtoon short jjaws round a body of the form and size
•»f the eomnion plate*; tlu' centre of the animal (which is black in
any other part of the body) has a dark vermilion round spot,
from whicJi dart a quantity of black slackers, one inch and a half
lonp, throuf^li which they extract the blood of animals; and so
rapid is the plih'botomy of this u^iy reptile, that though not weigh¬
ing more than two ounces in its natural state, a low minutes after
it is stuck on, it will iiu rcaso to the size of a beaver hat, and weigh
several pounds.

Thiis leeched in a lai*ge stream, a horse will often taint before he
can reach th<‘ opposite shore, and h(‘ then becomes a prey to the
gar fish; if the stream is but small and the animal is not exhausted,
he will run madly to the shore and roll to get rid of his terrible
blood-sucln'r, whicb, however, will adliere to him, till one oi« the
othi^ of thorn di(‘s fr^n exhaustion, or from repletion. In crossing
the lla.stern Texas bayous, I used alwaj’s to descend from my
horse to look if the leeches had stuck; the belly and the breast are
the parts generally attacked, and so tenacious are these mud
vampires, that tJie only means of removing them is to pass the
bladt* of a knife uud(*r them and cut them off.

-But let us leave these disgiLsUiig animals, and return to the
upland w'oods and prairies, where nature seems ever smiling, and
where the tlow'crs, the birds, and harmless quadrupeds present to
the eye a lively and divcirsitied spectaele. One of the prettiest
coups d'ccil in the world is to witness the gambols and amusements
of a Iicrd of horses, or a Hock oi antelopes. .No kitten is more
playful than these beautilul animals, when gi’azirig undisturbed in
the prairies; and yet those who, like the Indian, have time and
opportunity to investigat e, will discover vices in gregarious animals,
hitherto attributed solely to man.

It would appear that, oven among animals, where there is
society, there b a tyrant and a paria. On board vessels, in a school,
or an 3 ’^w'hcris if man is confined in space, there will alw''ays be some
one lording over the others, either Ijy his mere brutal strength or
by his character; and, as a consequence, there is also another, who
is spurned, kicked, and beaten bj' his companions, a poor outcast,
wliom everyDoiijr lielights in insulting and trampling upon: it is the
same among gregarious orutoc Take a flock of buffaloes, or horses,
or of antelopes; the first glance is always sufficient to detect the
two contrasts. Two of the animals will stand apart from the herd,
one proudly looking about, the,other timid and cast down; and
every minute some will leave their grazing, go and show submisi-
Sion, and give a caress to the one, and a kick or a bite to the other.

Such scenes I have often observed, and I have also witnessed the
consequence, which is, that the outcast eventually commits suicide,
another crime supposed to bo practised only by reasoning creatures,
like ourselves. I have seen horses, wh^ tired of their paria life.

302 TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES OF

vralk round atid round largo trees, as if to ascertain tho degree of
hardness required; they have then measured their distance, and
dartingrrith furious speed against it, fractured their skulls, and thus
got rid of life and oppression.

I remember a purtioular instance; it was at the settlement. T
Vras yet a boy, and during tho hotter hours of the day, I used to
take ray books aud go with one of the missionaries to study near a
torrent, under the cool shade of a magnolia.

All the trees around us uere filled with numerous republh s of
squirrels, scampering and jumping from branch to branch, and
forgetful of everything else, we would sometimes watch their
sport for hours together. Among them we had remarked one, wlio
kept solitary between the stems of an absynth shrub, not ten 3 'ards
from our usual station. There he would lii‘ motionless lor hours,
basking in the sun, till some other squirrolS|Wr>uld perceive ♦^im.
Then they would jump upon him, biting an«l scratching till they
were tired, and the poor animal would offer no resistance, and only
give way to his grief bj' plaintive cries.

At this sight, the good padre did not lose the opportunity ti» in¬
culcate a lesson, and after he had finished speaking, lie would strike
his hands together to terrify the assailani-s.

‘‘Yes," observed I, using Ins own words, “ it is nature."’

“Alas! no,” he would reply; “’Us loo horrible to l>c nature; it
is only one of the numerous evils generated from society.” The
padre was a great philosopher, and he was rigbt-

One day, while we were wa+chiug this paria of a squirrel, we de¬
tected a young one sldVdy creeping tbrungh the adjoining shrubs;
he had in his mouth a ripe fruit, a parsimon, if 1 remember right.
At every moment ho would stop and look if he were watched, just
as if he feared detection. At last he arrived near the paria, and
deposited before him his offering to misery and old ag<*.

We watched this spectacle with fi^clings which I could not de¬
scribe; there was .such a show of meek gratitude in the one, and
happiness in the other, just as if Ihj enjoyed his good action. They
were, however, perceived by the other squirrels, who sprang by
dtozens upon them; the young one with two bouud.s escaped, the
other submitted to his fate. 1 rose, all tho squiff'^i'^ -rauiahvd ex¬
cept the victim'i but that time, contrai’r habits, ho left the

shrub and slowly advanced to tho bank of the river, and ascended
a tree. A minute afterwards we observed him at the very
oxtrepjity of a branch projecting over the rapid waters, and wo
heard his plaintive shriek. It was his farewell to life and misery;
he leaped into the middle of the current, which in a moment carried
him to the shallow water a little below.

In spite of fais old age, tho padre waded into the "Stream and
iNiBCued the sideide. I took it home with me, fed it well, and in a
ifort thne its hair had grown again thick and glossy. Although

MONSnSUU VIOI^ET.

loft quite free, the |)fK-r .'mimal never attempted to escape
woods, and ho had hoconie so tame, that every time I mount*.
hors(-', ho would jump upon mo and accompany mo on my dis^
excur:dons. or ton months afterwards he was killed by

rattio-snako, who surprised him sleeping upon my blanket, durin,
one of our encampments.

the EVD.